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Civilizing the Police(man): Police Reform, Culture and Practice in Lisbon, c. 1860-1910 Thesis

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Gonçalves, Cândido Gonçalo Rocha (2013). Civilizing the Police(man): Police Reform, Culture and Practice in Lisbon, c. 1860-1910. PhD thesis The Open University.

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Candido Gon^alo Rocha Gonsalves Bsc Modem and Contemporary History (ISCTE-University Institute Lisbon), Msc Sociology (ISCTE-University Institute Lisbon)

Civilizing the police(man): Police reform, culture and practice in Lisbon, c.1860-1910

Thesis submitted for the degree of Doctor of Philosphy

Faculty of Arts, History Department

The Open University

September of 2012

D October Doutc /Wccrct • 3t> 7-pj 3 ProQuest Number: 13835959

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1 Acknowledgements

This research was supported with a doctoral grant from the Fundagao para a Ciencia e Tecnologia (FCT) of the Ministry of Education and Science of Portugal (SFRH/BD/43217/2008). This thesis is also an outcome of the ongoing collective project ‘Unveiling police(men) histories. NUrban policing in Portugal, 1860-1960’ (PTDC/HIS-HIS/115531/2009).

I would like to begin by thanking my supervisors Dr Paul Lawrence and Prof Clive Emsley. Embarking on a PhD thesis in a foreign country always has its risks, for the student and for the supervisors. More than just scientific supervision, it is the whole adaptation to different academic customs and to a foreign language that is involved. Their encouragement, continuous support and trust were vital to the successful conclusion of this research. Equally, I would like to express my gratitude to the whole Open University community, especially in the International Centre for the History of Crime, Policing and Justice.

In Portugal, I would like to begin by thanking Nuno Madureira who has accompanied me since my undergraduate years. His support and scientific rigour have been central in the pre-history of this research (the masters thesis) and in the pursuing of the adventure of doing the PhD abroad. Back in 2004, Susana Durao helped me discover the police as a research subject. Our ongoing conversations were central to the interrogations that guided this work. I am also grateful to Gra?a Indias Cordeiro, coordinator of the projects where this research was initiated. The freedom she allowed me is something that I will always be extremely grateful for.

Friends and family have helped much more than they probably realise. Thanks to Panayiota Sutcliffe and Jonathan Fine for their friendship. In Portugal, thanks are due to Joao Pedro Nunes for the endless talks, to Ligia Ferro for the enthusiasm, to Ines Pereira for her undisturbing coolness, to Rita d’Avila Cachado for her permanent smile, to Patricia Pereira for her carefulness with even the smallest thing, to Vera Hemiques for being an ever present friend (even when I am not), to Ines Versos for the support, especially during the hard August days at Biblioteca Nacional, and to Madalena Soares dos Reis for being here ever since I can remember. The support of Frederic Vidal, Diego Palacios Cerezales, Maria Joao Vaz, Bruno Cordeiro and Flavio Borda d’Agua helped me conducting this research. I am also grateful to Daniel Alves for the help with the police stations maps.

My family provided an essential support throughout the whole period. This thesis was completed during my father’s struggle against cancer. His serenity and perseverance in face of illness helped me realise that, when putting one foot in front of the other is suddenly transformed in such a painful act, writing a thesis is certainly an easy, minor task.

2 Contents

Acknowledgements...... p.2

Contents...... p.3

List of Maps, Tables, Graphics andlllustrations...... p.5

Abbreviations...... p.6

1. Introduction...... p. 7

1.1. Lisbon: Portugal’s largest city or an average town in Europe? ...... p. 10

1.2. Between the ‘old’ and the ‘new’: The police in nineteenth-century Europe ...... p. 19

1.3. A relational approach to the police: research questions, sources and methods.... p.32

1.4. Thesis structure ...... p.42

2. The creation of the Policia Civil and the liberal transformation of the Portuguese police system in the 1860s ...... p.44

2.1 The police of public safety in the Portuguese political agenda during the 1860s..p.49

2.2. Between the urban and the rural, the civil and the military: discussing police institutions and the new policeman...... p.58

2.3. Defining the ‘public safety’ sphere of action ...... p.65

2.4. Rationales of policing: prevention and emergency...... p.76

3. Nodes in a ‘bureaucratic landscape’: The historical development of the

Esquadra de Policia...... p.82

3.1. From old Guarda Municipal stations to new Policia Civil stations?...... p.86

3.2. Mapping the city, territorializing police authority...... p.95 3.3. The station: a place in the making...... p. 115

4. Unity and diversity: from the unskilled worker to the ‘expert’...... p.133

4.1. Lisbon’s Policemen: social profile and working conditions ...... p. 135

4.2. Police leaderships: cosmopolitanism, military culture and court experience p. 151

4.3. The police detective between scientific criminology and political surveillance.p.166

5. Shaping the Policeman: the emergence of an organizational culture p.184

5.1. Uniforms: Layers of meaning ...... p. 185

5.2. Bodily appearances: The hair, the moustache and the cigarette...... p. 199

5.3. Training the policeman: between political reforms and station socialization....p.207

5.4. The rise and circulation of a professional identity ...... p.216

6. Patrolling the streets, performing authority...... p.227

6.1. Will the police come? Beat patrol and the dynamics of the police mandate.....p.230

6.2. Adjusting performances: negotiating, arresting and fining...... p.246

6.3. Returning results: policing, representation and practice...... p.264

7. Conclusion ...... p.283

Bibliography...... p .291

4 List of Maps, Tables, Graphics and Illustrations

Maps Map 1 - Lisbon and its surroundings in 1879 ...... p.l 1 Map 2 - Policia Civil stations houses location in 1875 ...... p.98 Map 3 - Policia Civil station houses location in 1887 ...... p.98 Map 4 - Policia Civil station houses location in 1895 ...... p.99 Map 5 -Policia Civil station houses location in 1909 ...... p.99

Tables Table 1 - Population and Growth Rate in Lisbon (1801-1930) ...... p. 14 Table 2 - Manpower by branch in Policia Civil ...... p. 142 Table 3 - Arrests Registered by Policia Civil...... p.270 Table 4 - Arrests by Police Authority ...... p.271 Table 5 - Number of Police Fines under the Municipal Bylaw Code ...... p.275 Table 6 - Result of the Fines at the Police Level ...... p.276 Table 7 - Sick People Transported to the Hospital and Curatives in Pharmacies p.280

Graphics Graphic 1- Policia Civil's hierachical structure, 1867-1893 ...... p.136 Graphic 2 - Policia Civil's hierarchical structure, 1893-1910 ...... p. 137 Graphic 3 - Evolution of Policia Civil and Guarda Municipal manpower...... p. 140

Illustrations Illustration 1 - Harassing a pedestrian, a policeman screams: "they are the orders"!..p.37 Illustration 2 - Law-decree with the allocation of city's places to the different Esquadras...... p.94 Ilustration 3 - Policemen training their cycling skills in 1918 ...... p.Ill Illustration 4 - Entrance of Pateo D. Fradique station with the sentinel at the doorway in early twentieth century ...... p. 121 Illustration 5 - Posting and reading the daily order in the station pin-board ...... p. 125 Illustration 6 - Detention cells at Policia Civil General Comissariat, early twentienth- century ...... p. 127 Illustration 7 - Youths in the detention cells, early twentieth-century ...... p. 127 Illustration 8 - Cartoon mocking with policemen's writing skills in 1902 ...... p. 150 Illustration 9 - On the left, D. Diogo de Sousa, on the right Pinto Teixeira ...... p.203 Illustration 10 - On the left, a policeman assigned sentinel in the house of a superior authority; on the right, a policeman assigned to one of the city's slums ...... p.233 Illustration 11 - Policia Civil men as a column of savages ...... p.253 Illustration 12 - The arrest of a journalist ...... p.258 Illustration 13 - 'Paying' the fine for not spitting in the spittoon...... p.277

5 Abbreviations

ADL-GCL - Arquivo Distrital de Lisboa/Govemo Civil de Lisboa [Lisbon District Archive/Civil Government of Lisbon] AHM - Arquivo Historico Militar [Miliatry Historical Archive] AHMNE - Arquivo Historico Diplomatico [Foreign Affairs Archive] IAN/TT-APCL - Institute dos Arquivos Nacionais/Torre do Tombo - Arquivo Policia Civil de Lisboa [Policia Civil Archive] DCD - Diario da Camara dos Deputados [Portuguese Parlimentary Debates]. DS - Diario do Senado [Senate Diary] IAN/TT-MR - Institute dos Arquivos Nacionais/Torre do Tombo - Ministerio do Reino [National Archives - Ministry of Interior]

6 1. Introduction

The uniformed policeman patrolling the streets twenty-four hours a day is one of the most significant symbols of the emergence of modem urban societies. The importance of this figure resides on what it can tell us about the political, social and cultural transformation of the state itself and the ways in which it interacted with the people.

This thesis examines police reform, police culture and policing practices in the main

Portuguese urban centre, the capital Lisbon, during the second half of the nineteenth century until the aftermath of the Republican revolution of 1910. Placing the main focus on the process of organisational shaping - that is, in the myriad of interactions and relationships established within the police itself and with others -, the thesis also surveys the evolution of public safety policies and how the police interacted with the population in this essential period of Portuguese contemporary history.

The thesis begins with the process that led to the creation of Policia Civil de

Lisboa, in July 1867, and proceeds by examining the inner life of this police force during the following decades. Moreover, Lisbon’s police experience is placed in the context of the broader European transformations of police structures and policing practices during the nineteenth-century. Despite strong national particularities and different national historical ‘itineraries’, ‘police’ increasingly assumed common features throughout Europe in the nineteenth century. Indeed, the circulation of police models and similarities in policing practices and public debates on the nature of the police were not circumscribed to the subject itself but constituted a general characteristic of

European transformation in this period. As Robert Tombs has put it: ‘[s]uch similarities

[of policies] are signs of shared beliefs, similar problems, and conscious study and emulation of practice abroad. Whether they applauded or deplore it, contemporaries agreed that ‘progress’ was espousing common forms’.1 Taking Lisbon as a case study, this thesis aims to assess the police reform in Portugal, showing how it was directly influenced by and communicated with the European context of the period.

The modem idea of ‘police’ is one of institutions, preferably under the control of

civil authorities that use professional policemen to maintain and control public order

and public safety; this concept emerged more distinctly in Portugal, during the second half of the nineteenth century with the implementation of a new political regime - the liberal Constitutional Monarchy established in 1834. This was relatively late in the

European context where the reform of police institutions essentially took place between

1815 and 1850. The Portuguese Liberal Monarchy had a profound effect on the organisation of the state promoting the emergence of a new constitutional and administrative culture.2 The nineteenth century is commonly recognised as the period of the rise of the strong state sustained by a heavy bureaucratic machine. This is normally

supported by the number of public servants, which grew exponentially throughout all

European states.3 What is not so commonly acknowledged however is that the changes were both quantitative and qualitative. The state machinery had to change the way it was organised and functioned in order to efficiently reach the everyday life of

1 Robert Tombs ‘Politics’ in T. C. W. Blanning (Ed.) The Nineteenth Century: Europe 1789-1914 (Oxford: OUP, 2000), pp.10-46 (p.ll). On the importance of ‘circulation’ from a global perspective, see also C. A Bayly The Birth of the Modem World: Global connections and comparisons 1780-1914 (Oxford: Blackwell, 2004), p.l; On the demand for an European scale in the study of the police see Vincent Milliot ‘Mais que font les historiens de la police?’ in Jean-Marc Berliere, et al (Eds.),Metiers de Police. Etre policier en Europe, XVIIIe-XXe siecle (Rennes: Presses Universitaires de Rennes, 2008), pp.31-34. 2 Antonio Manuel Hespanha Guiando a mao invisivel: Direitos, Estado e Lei no Liberalismo Monarquico Portugues (Coimbra: Almedina, 2004), pp.289-292. 3 A classic text on this subject is Michael Mann ‘The Autonomous Power of the State: its origins, mechanisms and results’ Archives Europeenes de Sociologie, 1984 (25), pp.185-213; For Portuguese approaches on this line focusing on nineteenth-century state, See Pedro Tavares Almeida ‘A burocracia do Estado no Portugal Liberal (2a Metade do Seculo XIX)’ in Rui Branco & Pedro Tavares Almeida (Eds), Burocracia, Estado e Territdrio. Portugal e Espanha (Seculos XIX-XX) (Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 2007), pp.53-79; Luis Espinha Silveira ‘A Administra?ao do Estado em Portugal no seculo XIX’ in AAVV., Los 98 Ibericos y el Mar (Madrid: Pabellon de Espana Expo 98, III Tomo, 1998), pp.317-333. populations. This thesis explores this quantitative and qualitative transformation in one of the state’s key institutions: the police.

There were plenty of political, economic and social reasons for Portugal’s late arrival to the process of police reform. The country experienced enduring and widespread turmoil throughout the first half of the nineteenth century. In 1807, the first

French invasion caused the royal court to flee from Lisbon to Brazil where it remained until 1821. The opening of Brazilian ports in 1810 and Brazil’s independence in 1822 meant a complete disruption of colonial commerce that was of paramount importance to the Portuguese economy obligated now to rely only on its metropolitan territory.

Politically, 1820 was marked by the first liberal revolution, with the promulgation of a

Constitution which lasted until 1823. Between the early 1820s and 1834 the country suffered from an almost constant conflict between absolutists headed by D. Miguel and supported by the old nobility and a new generation of middle-class liberals. The final years, 1832-34, were marked by a civil war that eventually ended with the victory of the liberal side. This victory did not result in a more peaceful atmosphere. Between 1834 and 1851, there was constant conflict between two liberal factions, one more on the left and heir of the liberals of the 1820 revolution, and the other more moderate and conservative. It was only in 1851 with the so called Regeneration movement that both factions agreed to sacrifice their political demands in the name of economic development and material improvements. As a consequence of all the turbulence, the economy, now without the main colonial asset, had to find ways to sustain itself in just the small European territory, and industrialisation was still only a plan in the mind of the political elite. Relatively speaking, there was greater political and social stability after 1851 and this allowed ideas of police reform that had been circulating among

9 sections of the liberal political elite since the beginning of the century to be put into practice.

This introduction is structured in four parts. Firstly, the case of Lisbon and

Portugal is introduced by contextualising the political, social and economic situation. In a second point, the main trends of European police historiography are analysed, pointing out some of the aspects that will be discussed in the thesis. Thirdly, the research questions that guided this work are addressed, as well as the sources and the methods used to interpret them. Finally, the structure of the thesis is presented.

1.1. Lisbon: Portugal’s largest city or an average town in Europe?

Lisbon has always been a notable exception in the Portuguese urban landscape. It has always had by far the largest population in the country and, for example, it was more than double that of the second city Oporto in 1900 when Lisbon had around 356,000 inhabitants and Oporto 167,000. The strong imbalance between Lisbon and the rest of the country is commonly acknowledged with this blatant disparity often described as a very big head for a tiny body.4 Inversely, the importance of Lisbon in the urban hierarchy decreased in the European context: while in 1750 it was the 5th largest city of

Europe, in 1850 it was already ranked 14th and a century later, in 1950, 28th.5 However, the Toss of the metropole status’ in the early nineteenth century ‘did not have such devastating consequences, as the capital was able to re-invent itself as an industrial and

service hub’.6 It was not just because of its size that well into the twentieth-century

4 Antonio Manuel Hespanha ‘Cities and state in Portugal’, in Charles Tilly and Wim Blocmans (Eds) Cities and the rise of states in Europe, A.D. 1000 to 1800 (Boulder: Westview Press 1994), pp. 184-195. 5 Paul Hohenberg & Lynn Hollen Lees, The Making of Urban Europe 1000-1994 (Cambridge,Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1995) p.227; See also Jean-Luc Pinol (Ed.),Histoire de Veurope urbain: de Vancien regime a nou jours: Expansion et limite d ’un modele (Paris: Seuil, 2003), p.28. 6 Patrick O’FlanaganPort Cities of Atlantic Iberia c.1500-1900 (Aldershot: Ashagte, 2008), p. 129.

10 Lisbon was always a political, social and cultural world apart from the rest of the country.

Map 1 - Lisbon and its surroundings in 1879

tuu it>9tunni C IM D C tit U S 8 M i tin m iM iti

Source: Arquivo Fotografico Municipal de Lisboa. In Red the city centre; Yellow line the Liberty Avenue; In Brown, main expansion area in the second half of nineteenth century.

Any account of Lisbon’s nineteenth-century history must start in 1755, when one of the biggest earthquakes on record and the subsequent fire left destruction and death in the city. At the turn of the century, the city’s historical course was dramatically affected by another event. In the wake of French invasion in 1808, the Portuguese Royal

Court fled to Brazil and by some accounts 15,000 subjects from the country’s political, economic, cultural and religious elite embarked for the tropics where the court stayed for the next thirteen years. While the earthquake dramatically changed the built environment and the size of the population, the court’s removal to Brazil must have had dramatic consequences in the social structure and life of the city.7 But this was just the beginning of almost half a century of constant and widespread turmoil: the French wars

7 If there are many studies about the court transference to Brazil and what it represented to Rio de Janeiro’s urban and cultural development, there are no corresponding studies about its effects in Lisbon.

11 until 1815; the Brazilian crisis and the first liberal revolution between 1820 and 1822; the conflicts between absolutists and liberals until 1834 and, thereafter between different liberal factions had natural consequences on the development of the city. In

1851, the Regeneration movement brought some stability to the political regime and the emphasis that it placed on the economic and material development highlighted the city’s central role in the national context and that both city and the whole country needed to be rebuilt and adapted to a new internal function. The Regeneration peace lasted until the late 1860s, when political turmoil restarted as will be shown in the next chapter. Peace was restored in the 1870s and most of the 1880s when governments stayed in power for longer periods under the leadership of prime minister Fontes Pereira de Melo.

The death of Fontes in 1887 marked symbolically the return of instability. In the context of the scramble for Africa, Portugal tried to occupy the territories between

Angola and Mozambique, which clashed with the British intents to create a Cape to

Cairo railway. In January 1890, the British Government delivered an ultimatum to

Portugal. The Portuguese government retreated triggering tumultuous months on Lisbon streets. The crisis was not only confined to colonial policies and national pride; in 1891 a more serious financial crisis led to the state declaring partial bankruptcy. The following years were marked by an economic crisis that did not show signs of recovery until the turn of the century. By then the working-class movement was beginning to make itself visible and the Republican movement was also growing in popularity after a failed attempt to establish a republic in January 1891 in Oporto. It was only after 1907, however, that these movements began to constitute a serious threat to the regime, affected also by a series of corruption scandals. In February 1908, King D. Carlos I was assassinated in Lisbon’s main square when he was returning from a trip to Alentejo.

Between 1907 and 1910 the republican movement descended to the streets, cafes and

12 Lisbon’s public houses posing continual threats to public order and public safety. The revolution came in 1910 and the Republic was established. The point to note here is that almost all of this was circumscribed to Lisbon. It was in Lisbon, and secondarily in

Oporto, that everything happened. After the revolution in 1910 it was said that the

Republic was transmitted to the rest of the country simply by telegraph.

Many changes were introduced to the official city limits in the nineteenth century. At the beginning of the century, the official limit of Lisbon municipality extended almost 20km north. In 1852 an administrative reform reduced this to the urbanised core. More than thirty years later, in 1885/1886, the limits were expanded to include some urbanising parishes but mostly with the aim of augmenting tax revenue.

With a minor reform in 1895, these were the limits that prevailed into the twentieth-

o century. Yet these official limits were very far from representing the real urbanised area of the city and, as will be seen in the chapter on the police territorialisation process, the discrepancy between official limits and the concrete urbanised area influenced the way the police structure was deployed throughout the city territory. In terms of the built environment, Lisbon’s evolution was marked by the consolidation of three different zones. The first zone was composed of the city centre rebuilt after the earthquake. One of the most important examples of the Enlightenment’s squared and functional urbanism, the city’s downtown witnessed a decline in residents and a growth of the

services sector throughout the nineteenth century. A second zone was constituted by the

working-class neighbourhoods along the city’s waterfront. Whereas the old neighbourhoods were adjacent to the city centre, new ones emerged during the second

half of the century in the eastern and western side of the city as a result of the

8 Daniel Alves, Evolugao das freguesias da cidade de Lisboa ao longo do seculo XIX, http://www2.fcsh.unl.pt/deps/historia/docs/lisboa.pdf, p.2

13 industrialisation of the city.9 Finally, a third zone developed with the growth to the interior north plains. This planned movement began with the transformation of a public park in the early 1880s in the ‘Haussmanian’ type boulevard Liberty Avenue. On the borders of the avenue, middle-class residential neighbourhoods emerged which continued to grow to the adjacent lands over the following decades.10 As normally happens, urban growth and spatial segregation went hand in hand. While middle-class neighbourhoods grew to the interior, new working-class neighbourhoods emerged in east and west waterfront with populations normally employed in either port activities or the factories that were also appearing in those zones.

Table 1 - Population and Growth Rate in Lisbon (1801-1930)

Year Number AAGR 1801 193,408 1820 220,210 0.69

1840 205,348 - 0.35

1864 204,801 - 0.01 1878 227,674 0.76 1890 298,903 2.29 1900 356,009 1.76 1911 435,359 1.85 1920 486,372 1.24 1930 594,390 2.03

Source: Adapted from Alvaro Ferreira da Silva, ‘Crecimento urbano’, p.35. AAGR: Annual Average Growth Rate.

Unsurprisingly, these changes in the built environment reflected the city’s demographic evolution. Between 1801 and 1910 Lisbon’s population grew from approximately 193,000 to 435,000 inhabitants. However, the growth was not constant.

Between 1800 and the 1820s, the city did not grow at the same pace as in the late eighteenth-century after the earthquake. The growth rates in the early nineteenth century

9 Frederic Vidal Les habitants d'Alcantara au debut du XXe siecle: Identites, proximites et distances sociales dans un quartier industrialise de Lisbonne (PhD Thesis, Lyon: Universite Lumiere-Lyon 2, 2003). 10 Alvaro Ferreira da Silva, ‘Crescimento Urbano, Regulaipao e Oportunidades Empresariais: A construgao residencial em Lisboa, 1860-1930’ (PhD Thesis, Florence: EU1, 1997), Chapters V and VI.

14 were never over 1% unlike after the earthquake. But the situation worsened between the

1820s and the 1840s, when the combination of political instability, economic difficulties and epidemic crisis brought the growth in the population to a halt and even a decrease.

The 1860s proved to be a watershed in the demographic evolution of the city. In the last quarter of the century, Lisbon enjoyed a period of great demographic vitality, at first still timidly, but from the 1880s onwards at an unprecedented pace. The period of our study is therefore of great relevance in the city’s demographic evolution. This growth path can also be assessed by making an international comparison. The last quarter of the nineteenth century saw growth rates in Lisbon which were comparable to other

European cities; this had not been the case in the first half of the century when the city’s demographic evolution was dissonant from the rest of Europe. Of the cities with a similar size (300,000 inhabitants), only Copenhagen witnessed more favourable growth rates than the Portuguese capital in this period.11

The city’s population pyramid was strongly shaped by the internal migration movement from the rural areas in the interior of the country. From the 1870s in particular, it was this migratory flow that allowed the population to rise at more than the

‘natural’ growth rate. Although there were more people of every age in the city, growth was especially among the segment most prone to clash with the police: youth, unmarried males. With migration from rural areas, Lisbon’s population structure acquired high masculinity ratios in the 20 to 30 year and 30 to 40 year age groups with a

• • 19 high celibacy rate. Another aspect of the city’s population structure is also of paramount relevance to this study. Although perhaps impossible to quantify, the significant presence of a floating population in the everyday life of the city should not be forgotten. Individuals that stayed for just for a few days or hours like sailors and

11 Silva, ‘Crescimento urbano’, p.42. 12 Teresa Rodngues • Nascer e morrer na Lisboa oitocentista: migragdes, mortalidade e desenvolvimento (Lisbon: Cosmos, 1995), pp.79-95.

15 other passengers using the city’s port, soldiers staying in one of the many barracks situated within the city, or people that would come on a regular basis from the rural hinterlands to sell goods or resolve some bureaucratic issue were all an integral part of the city’s population and some of them were among the most frequent ‘clients’ of the police.

Accounts of Portugal’s economic development during the nineteenth century are unanimous on one basic but essential characteristic: the country was a backward peripheral economy, where agriculture dominated and the gap with more developed economies grew in this period.13 In 1860 the Portuguese gross national product (GNP) per inhabitant corresponded to 75% of the French GNP. Half a century later, in 1913, this went down to 13%.14 Once more, Lisbon needs to be carefully placed in the context of Portuguese economic (under)development. In deep contrast with the rest of the country, an industrialisation process took place in the city from the 1840s and it was always, prominently, the country’s main manufacturing centre.15 In fact, if it is possible to speak of a sustained and progressive industrialisation of the country in the second half of the century, the role played by Lisbon in this process is overwhelming.16 Large textiles and tobacco factories were established in Lisbon after 1835 and the use of new technology increased in the following decades. In general, the Portuguese economy went through a structural transformation in this period that goes beyond the ‘industrial development’ question. The loss of Brazil, the growing foreign competition in transatlantic colonial commerce and its consequent decline was felt in the whole country

13 Jorge Pedreira ‘Introdufao’ in Pedro Lains & Alvaro Ferreira da Silva (Eds)Histdria Economica de Portugal 1700-200: Vol. IIO Seculo XIX (Lisbon: ICS, 2005), p.28. 14 Vidal, Les habitants, p.18. 15 David Justino A Formagao do Espago Economico Nacional, Portugal 1810-1913 - Vol.I (Lisbon: Vega, 1988-1989), pp.85-93. 16David JustinoA Formagao, pp. 127, 147-150. In 1850 Agriculture contributed 45.4% to the GDP and Industry 13.1; in 1910 Agriculture contributed 36.6% and Industry 27.1. See Table 7.3 in Pedro Lains, A Industria, p.273.

16 but especially in Lisbon, where Portugal’s main port was located.17 Thus the nineteenth century, particularly in the second half, was marked above all by the consolidation of a national market economy. In this context, the development of the railway network placed Lisbon at the centre of all economic activity.18 The economic modernisation of the country was thus caused by and a generator of a more inclusive and integrated national economy that had concentrated the pivotal role of economic development in

Lisbon and Oporto through state investments e.g. in infrastructures.

The consolidation of a national economic market was accompanied by another structural transformation. Though at a much slower pace than other more developed countries, the second half of the century was marked by growing links with the exterior though greater imports of food and raw materials for industry. In fact, the most modem and dynamic of activity in the Portuguese economy had the strongest link with the exterior.19 It is essential to note here that the port and the multiplicity of activities associated with it were central to the economic development of the city and its social composition. While the railways made national economic integration possible, the port allowed this national market to integrate in an internationalised economy. Unfortunately there is no systematic study about Lisbon’s port activity for this period. The most important aspect to retain here is that Lisbon was not only the most populous city in the country, but its political capital was also an essential national platform of goods distribution as a result of its port activity. The Portuguese financial community was thus overwhelmingly concentrated in Lisbon.

17 Lains, A Industria, p.270.

18 Eugenia Mata ‘As bees attracted to honey: transport and job mobility in Portugal, 1890-1950’,Journal of Transport History, 2008, vol.29(2), pp.173-192. 19 Pedro Lains A Economia Portuguesa no seculo XIX: Crescimento Economico e Comercio Externo 1851-1913 (Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional, 1995), Chapter 2.

17 Living conditions in Lisbon were naturally affected by the social and economic development in this period. Miriam Halpem Pereira has stated that at a time of mild economic growth, between the 1880s and 1910s, there was a decline in the standard of living of the working classes in contrast with the small improvement in rural areas. 9.0

However, more recent research has showed that, despite the difficulties felt in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, living conditions in the city were more 91 advantageous. The decline of infant mortality and increase in life expectancy are two good indicators of the evolution of the living conditions and testify to the progressive improvement of living conditions among the popular classes.22 The discussion on

Lisbon’s standard of living and its difference with the rest of the country revolves around the deep contrast in a country where agriculture was still the main economic activity but where two significantly industrialised areas - Lisbon and Oporto - emerged during the second half of the nineteenth-century.

To conclude this brief social and economic contextualisation of Lisbon’s development, the literacy rate is another key social indicator that sheds light on

Lisbon’s specificity in the Portuguese context and the social framework in which the police had to operate. Persistent high illiteracy rates are a striking feature in Portuguese nineteenth-century society. Unlike the north of Europe, illiteracy rates in Southern

European countries were high in the mid nineteenth century at around 75% (more than

80% in Portugal). However, they went down in countries like Italy and Spain in the second half of the century and stood at around 50% in the early twentieth century. In contrast, high illiteracy persisted in Portugal until the turn of the century and beyond, despite the growth in the number of students enrolled; indeed, it had one of the highest

20 Miriam Halpem Pereira ‘Niveaux de consommation, niveaux de vie au Portugal (1874-1922)’, Annales, Histoire, Sciences Sociales, 1975, vol.30(2/3), pp.610-631. 21 Jaime Reis, “‘Urban Premium” or “Urban Penalty”? The case of Lisbon, 1840-1912’,Historia Agraria , 2009, vol.47, pp.69-94. 22 Rodrigues, Nascer e Morrer, pp.97-166.

18 illiteracy rates in Europe in the nineteenth century.23 But whilst the country as a whole had an illiteracy rate of 74% in 1900, in Lisbon that year it was 46.1% (and 56.7% in 94 Oporto). The reasons for this deep contrast are not hard to find. The number of individuals employed in the state’s bureaucracy was much higher here than in the rest of the country as this was where the state’s machinery was largely located. The ‘services sector’ which required a large number of clerical staff, e.g. shipping, grew exponentially in the second half of the century. Most important of all, the country’s liberal and technical professionals were overwhelmingly concentrated in Lisbon. This all gave rise to a large middle-class, literate public in Lisbon. Moreover, an industrial survey in 1890 showed that, in stark contrast with the rest of the country, 58% of workers in Lisbon could read and write, further demonstrating Lisbon’s more favourable literacy rate.25

The political, social and cultural context of Lisbon in the nineteenth century caused police reform to come later than the rest of Europe and, as was also pointed out, this was an almost unique process in the national context (accompanied only by the second city, Oporto). The ideas of reform circulating in Europe had taken shape when they appeared in Portugal in the 1860s, making it a fruitful case study to understand changes in the police in Europe in this period. At a national level, and given the scarcity of studies on the subject, it is imperative to begin by examine how the police was transformed in Lisbon.

1.2. Between the ‘old’ and the ‘new’: the police in nineteenth-century Europe.

23 Jaime Reis O Atraso Economico Portugues 1850-1930 (Lisbon: INCM: 1992), pp.227-253. 24 A. H. de O. Marques (Ed.) Portugal da Monarquia para a Republica (Lisbon: Editorial Presenga, 1991), p.519. 25 Jaime Reis ‘O Trabalho’ in Pedro Lains & Alvaro Ferreira Silva,Historia Economica de Portugal 1700-2000: Vol. IIO Seculo XIX (Lisbon: Imprensa Ciencias Sociais, 2005), pp. 119-151 (p. 141).

19 At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the word ‘police’ was used with a similar meaning to what later came to be known as ‘government’ in most European countries whereas in places like England it had a more infrequent and limited use.26 More than a century later, on the eve of First World War, ‘police’ was widely used in everyday language by people all over Europe. In the early twentieth century, European states possessed a multiplicity of police institutions in which thousands of policemen worked and performed a wide range of functions. Police were almost everywhere either through their concrete presence or by the threat of their imminent presence. In one of the earliest academic works about police, Allan Silver argued that police is one of the most blatant and visible examples of state authority and power in the sense that ‘it represented the penetration and continual presence of central political authority throughout daily life’.27

Yet despite such a notorious transformation and importance in peoples’ lives, historians only began to research and assess critically the meaning and results of this change in the

1960s.

What then does police history study? As David Bayley stressed in the early days of the research on police, the difficulty is in the fact that ‘[pjolice are a diffuse topic, not a researchable explicandum. Because police activity is ramified, the separate features that might be selected for analysis are large in number. This explains the diversity of focus in all police research’. 98 This is even more valid today with the multiplication of works on the subject than it was in the late 1970s. In order to systematise this dispersion, this review considers three dimensions that summarise the police as an

‘object’ of historical research: the institutional, the organisational and the interactional.

26 Francis Dodsworth ‘The Idea of Police in Eighteenth-Century England: Discipline, Reformation, Superintendence c.1780-1800’, Journal of the History of Ideas, 2008, vol. 69 (4), pp.583-604. 27 Allan Silver ‘The demand for order in civil society: a review of some themes in the history of urban crime, police and riot’ in David Bordua (Ed.) The Police: Six sociological essays (New-York: John Wiley, 1967), pp. 1-24 (pp.12-13). 28 David Bayley (Ed.), Police and Society, Beverly Hill: Sage, 1977, p.13.

20 The first part will concentrate on the ways historians have examined the institutional transformations and the meaning of the underlying political decisions. Second, it will be seen how policing arrangements and the nature of police work have become the main focuses of police history since the early 1990s. Finally, it is argued that despite recent developments, the main challenges to historians reside in the relationships established between the police and the policed and what transpired from there to the ‘public sphere’. Although occasional reference is made to other geographic locations and periods, this review aims to make a comparative look at nineteenth-century Europe.

Police history has flourished most prominently in England and this is where most works on the subject continue to be published. The study of new conceptions of crime and the evolution of criminal trends in the emergent industrial societies became key topics with the ascension of history from below. In this context, the study of the police appeared as one of the research streams, one in which it was possible to ‘hear’ the people without voice at the crucial moment when they faced power.29 But there are more reasons why the English case is important when considering police from a

European perspective. The creation in 1829 of the Metropolitan Police in London is a crucial moment not only for England but for Europe and beyond, and one that marks the institutional approach on the police’s historical development. Early Whig historians

(very often themselves ex-policemen or government officials) interpreted this moment as a complete watershed, replacing the inefficient and corrupt traditional means of policing organised locally at the parish level employing normally part-time agents with a new centrally controlled, professional mode of organising policing. A number of authors have however disputed this image, arguing that the Metropolitan Police was

29 Victor Bailey (Ed.) Policing and Punishment in Nineteenth Century Britain, (London: Croom Helm, 1981).

21 QfV more representative of the views and power of a particular class. Other historians argue that the creation of the Metropolitan did not produce a whole new world in 1829, but must be seen as one moment in the context of a chain of events and debates occurring from the late eighteenth century and continuing after 1829.31 One important dimension present in the decision to establish the Metropolitan police and its final institutional form was that it occurred against the spectre and fears of the continental spy systemP In the following decades, the Metropolitan Police model (preventive, uniformed, salaried and professional) stabilised and spread to the rest of England. Thus, the 1856 reform was a key moment in the institutional development of the English police and this model also became a key reference in police reform for the rest of the

Europe. However, its importance lay not so much in the actual institution and actions of its men as in its representation in that it became a new concept available to reformers around Europe: a civil, professional police force, controlled by central state,

'jo bureaucratically organised and acting under the rule of law.

By comparison with England, ‘police’ in continental Europe has a much more complicated history.34 From the sixteenth century, a theory of state, ‘police science’, developed in the German states and was taught in universities as ‘cameralism’. It was

30 David Philips ‘'A New Engine of Power and Authority': The Institutionalisation of Law-Enforcement in England 1780-1830’, in V.A.C. Gatrell, et al (Eds), Crime and the Law. The Social History of Crime in Western Europe Since 1500, (London: Europa, 1980), pp. 155-189. 31 Elaine Reynolds, Before the Bobbies: The Night Watch and Police Reform in Metropolitan London, 1720-1830 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1998); Ruth Paley A n Imperfect, Inadequate and Wretched System? Policing In London before Peel’, Criminal Justice History: An International Annual, 1989, vol.10, pp.95-130. 32 David Philips A 'Weak' State? The English State, the Magistracy and the Reform of Policing in the 1830's’, English Historical Review, 2004, vol. CXIX (483), pp.873-891 (p.877); Paul Lawrence They have an admirable police in Paris, but they pay for it dear enough’: La Police Europeenne vue d’Anglaterre au XIX Siecle, in Catherine Denys (Ed.), Circulations Policieres 1750-1914, (Villeneuve d’Asq: Presses Universitaries du Septentrion, 2012) pp.103-118. 33 Clive Emsley Crime, Police & Penal Policy: European Experiences 1750-1940 (Oxford: OUP, 2007), pp.71-73. 34 David Bayley ‘The Police and Political Development in Europe’ in Charles Tilly (Ed.) The Formation of National States In Western Europe (New-Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1975), pp.328-379; Hsi- Huey Liang The Rise of Modern Police and the European State System From Metternich to Second World War (Cambridge, CUP, 2002).

22 responsible for hundreds of treatises and a number of laws in the German principalities alone. This theory that advocated the active role of the king in promoting the good order and happiness of the realm spread to the rest of the continent and was translated in the architecture of the state in the creation of new institutions devoted to these functions. In Portugal, for example, in the wake of the 1755 earthquake the Intedencia

Geral da Policia was created in 1760. Instigated by the work of Marc Raeff and especially Michel Foucault, the ‘police state’ of the eighteenth century has become a heavily researched theme.37 Following the ‘govemmentality studies’, many authors examined the discourses and ways in which statesmen 'created' territories and populations at the end of the Ancien Regime, and engendered a series of governance instruments. However, Andre Wakefield has recently stressed the need to be more cautious about the real accomplishments of these early strategies of active government.

In a work on the actions and intellectual path of some of the cameralists, including the most famous of all, von Justi, the author shows in an empirical and interpretive meticulous work that the distance was enormous between discourses on good order and prosperity and practical and concrete results: the conclusion of the book is significantly entitled ‘Don’t believe everything you read’. Most cameralists could enjoy high academic authority, but had often failed when asked to manage real things. But

Wakefield stresses that it was not just their fault, as states did not possess the human

35 Marc Raeff The Well-Ordered Police State: Social and Institutional Change Through Law in the Germanies and Russia, 1600-1800 (New Haven, Yale University Press, 1983). 36 Roland Axtman ‘Police and the formation of the modern state: legal and ideological assumptions on state capacity in the Austrian lands of the Habsburg empire, 1500-1800’, German History, 10 (1), 1994, pp.39-60 (p.44). For a recent review of this field at a European scale see Catherine Denys, ‘The development of police forces in urban Europe in the Eighteenth Century’, Journal of Urban History, 2010, vol.36(3), pp.332-344. 37 Michel Foucault Security, Territory and Population (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2004).

23 and material resources capable of putting on the ground what was written in the hundreds of treatises.38

In the early nineteenth-century, the cameralists and their ideas were replaced by the emergent discipline of ‘political economy’ championed by growing liberalism. This is not the place to review the ascension of liberalism but, in relation to ‘police’, there was a conflict in the early nineteenth-century between two concepts: one, in the cameralist tradition, equated ‘police’ to what today is understood as ‘government’, thus translating all state’s government policies and actions; and a second concept, the emergent liberal view that asserted the rule of law and limited the police to the preservation of personal safety and property.39 As Mark Neocleous stressed, the liberal view which, in theory, would become dominant in Europe during the following century, was a rethinking of the existing concept rather than a new concept of police. Nineteenth century politicians and reformers found the reference for police reform in this concept and many saw the Metropolitan Police as the embodiment of it.

Despite many liberal theories, another striking feature of the nineteenth century was the growing presence of state in society, which was only possible due to the institutional re-equipping of the state. Clive Emsley has grouped the different types of institution that emerged in this process into three ideal types: civilian police forces controlled by the central government and normally deployed in the cities; municipal civilian police controlled by the municipalities; and national, military police forces also controlled by the central government (although with a sometimes disputed control between the Ministry of Interior and the Ministry of War) and normally deployed in

38 Andre Wakefield The Disordered Police State: German Cameralism as Science and Practice (Chicago, Chicago University Press, 2009). 39 Mark Neocleous The Fabrication of Social Order: a Critical Theory of Police Power (London, Pluto Press, 2000), pp.31-34. See also Mark Neocleous ‘Policing and pin-making: Adam Smith, police and the state of prosperity’, Policing and Society, 1998, vol.8, pp.425-449.

24 rural areas.40 In terms of the civil police forces, the Metropolitan initiated a movement witnessed at the time in other parts of Europe though varying according to the different national contexts.41 The Guardie di Publica Sicurezza in Piedmont in 1852, the reform of Parisian police in 1855, or, as will be seen in the next chapter, the creation of Policia

Civil in Portugal in 1867 were all examples of measures that were linked to a broader, transnational movement despite being anchored in their local contexts. A similar process occurred with the military police forces used to police the countryside that were created in continental Europe and drew on the model of the French gendarmerie. The

Carabinieri in Piedmont in 1814, later in all Italy, or the Guardia Civil created in Spain in 1844 were examples of an analogous movement.42 Despite significant homogeneity in the type of police agencies in existence across Europe, there was considerable diversity in each nation and between different national contexts which gave extra texture to the process of police reform that the ideal-types do not disclose. Finally, the different configuration and nature of police forces add something to the above mentioned debate that guided police reform in this century. In terms of institutional change, the debate over the military versus civilian ethos of the new police forces was central in the change, in which the military was connoted with despotic government whereas the civilian ethos was seen to be modem, bound by the rule of law, and a liberal form of government.

This discussion leads us to the second dimension of change in the police sphere: organisation. In a rather typical description of how police was transformed in this

40 Clive Emsley ‘A typology of nineteenth-century police’, Crime Histoire & Societes/Crime, History & Societies, 1999, vol.3 (1), pp.29-44. 41 Paul Lawrence ‘Introduction’ in Paul Lawrence (Ed.), The New Police in the Nineteenth Century, (Famham: Ashgate, 2011), pp.xi-xxiii (pp.xx-xxi). 42 Clive Emsley Gendarmes and the State in Nineteenth Century Europe (Oxford: OUP, 1999); Jean-Noel Luc (Ed.) Gerdarmerie, Etat et Societe au XIXe Siecle, (Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2002); Michael Broers ‘The Police and the Padroni: Italian Notabili, French Gendarmes and the Origins of the Centralized State in Napoleonic Italy’, European History Quarterly, 1996, vol.26(3), pp.331-353; Diego Lopez Garrido La Guardia Civil y los Origenes del Estado Centralista (Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 2004). 25 period, David G. Barrie and Susan Broomhall stated that it included the ‘construction of powerful, modem bureaucratic police organisations under hierarchical command structures, the employment of full-time, uniformed policemen, and the greater regulation of those to be surveyed’.43 Since police forces generally and those following more civilian lines in particular only partially adopted military customs there was great scope for shaping new modes of organisation. But more than adding a dimension to the study of police, what is in question here is an issue that affected the whole course of change. As Jonathan Dunnage put it, over the nineteenth century the practice of policing increasingly conditioned state public order and public safety policies and broader social policies 44 Dunnage, for example, consistently links harsh repressive measures in the maintenance of public order in the tumultuous 1890s in Italy with the lack of manpower and organisational weaknesses of police forces, but explanations in police history have been more and more directed to organisational causes in a wide range of other issues.45

Thus the organisation, its routines and the men that acted within them became a central focus of police historians’ attention.46 There was not only a concern about social processes, how daily practices of policing were structured, but concepts like organisational or institutional culture emerged that completed a socio-cultural turn within police historiography. In approaches focusing more on the individuals forming police organisations, questions around policemen’s identity - either uniformed men on

43 David G. Barrie & Susan Broomhall (Eds) A History of Police and Masculinities 1700-2000 (London: Routledge, 2012) p.5. 44 Jonathan DunnageThe Italian Police and the Rise of Fascism: a case study of the province of Bologna, 1897-1925 (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1997), p.xiii. 45 Dunnage, The Italian Police, p.l 1. 46 England was a forerunner on this subjects see Carolyn Steedman Policing the Victorian Community: The formation of English provincial police forces, 1856-80 (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1984); Haia Spayer-Makov The Making of a Policeman: A Social History of a Labour Force in Metropolitan London, 1829-1914 (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2002). For works in this field in Continental Europe see Jean- Marc Berliere, et al (Eds.), Metiers de Police. Etre policier en Europe, XVIIIe-XXe siecle (Rennes: Presses Universitaires de Rennes, 2008)

26 the beat, the police leaders or detectives - came to the fore of research in police history.47

Historians’ attention has thus been directed towards the men that joined police forces, their social profile and their working routines and conditions 48 Who were the men that joined the new or reformed police institutions? In urban Europe particularly, the portrait did not differ very much from one city to another: unskilled or low skilled men, often from a rural background (the police was often seen as a secure way to migrate to the city) or former soldiers. In most cases, the police was a relatively respected working-class occupation. In other non-European and ethnically more diverse societies, the issue of social class was almost always associated with skin colour. In a study of the state police of Sao Paulo in the 1870s and 1880s, Andre Rosemberg noted the massive presence of non-whites among those recruited. In a period marked by the decline of slavery, joining the police meant ‘a passport to the actual existence in the formal world’.49 The longevity of police careers is another issue at stake when attention is focused on the men that joined police forces. Until the mid nineteenth century, police forces were marked by a high turnover but men began to stay longer and make a

‘career’ on the force towards the end of the century. The idea of a ‘career’ emerged, among other reasons, in the context of the growing complexity of police organisations, in the terms of the work itself but also how men saw their (and their families’) lives increasingly structured around their professional lives.

In the study of police organisations, classical themes of organisational studies have filled a constant research agenda: recruitment, wages and working conditions,

47 Amaud-Dominique Houte Le metier de gendarme au XIXe siecle, (Rennes: Presses Universitaires de Rennes, 2010). 48 Mark Clapson & Clive Emsley ‘Street, Beat and Respectability: The Culture and Self-image of Late Victorian and Edwardian Urban Policeman’, Criminal Justice History, 2002, vol. 16, pp. 107-131; Clive Emsley ‘The Policeman as Worker: a comparative survey c.1800 - 1940’, International Review of Social History, 2000, vol. 45(1), pp.89-110; See also, Berliere et. al., Metiers de Police. 49 Andre Rosemberg De Chumbo e Festim: Uma Historia da Policia Paulista no Final do Imperio (Sao Paulo, EDUSP, 2010), p. 163.

27 training and organisational socialisation are some of the most recurrent topics. Several authors have worked on the bureaucratisation of police organisations with the introduction of formal mechanisms for training, the establishment of an objective career structure and the corresponding promotion rules based on formal performance reviews; they have noted that although these features would only be consolidated in most cases in the twentieth century, they emerged in embryonic forms in the nineteenth century.

Also the emergence of forms of framing the men and their families’ leisure behaviour and private conduct reflected broader changes in the relation employer / employee happening in this period. In their own way, police forces wanted, and could in part be of, total institutions.50

But if these questions represented the translation of broader changes seen in social history into police historiography, the works of other social scientists on contemporary police forces also affected police history. In particular, the informal rules, assumptions, beliefs and practices that were generated within the occupational framework have become a subject of analysis. Traces of a ‘police culture’ identified by present day social scientists, like the sense of mission, the desire and excitement for action, the suspicious character and propensity for social isolation, the political and morally conservative personality and the general machismo, cynicism and pessimism have inspire historians of the formation of this occupational culture.51 Due to the organisational consolidation of police institutions, the men working in them developed a much more active concept of their professional role. This is the case of professionalisation - i.e. the consolidation of police and policing ideals built by the

50 Haia Shpayer-Makov, ‘Relinking work and leisure in late Victorian and Edwardian England: the emergence of a police subculture’, International Review of Social History, 2002, vol.47, pp. 213-241. 51 Robert Reiner The Politics of the Police (Oxford: OUP, 2010, [1984]); See also P. A. J. Waddington ‘Police (canteen) sub-culture: an appreciation’, British Journal of Criminology, 1999, vol. 39(2), pp.287- 309; Paul Lawrence ‘La « culture flic »? Les recits de vies des policiers anglais’, in Jean-Marc Berlirere & Rene Levy (Eds) Le temoin, le sociologue et Vhistorien: Quand les policiers se mettent a table (Paris: Nouveau monde, 2010), pp.49-60.

28 policemen themselves and the active defence of the occupational ethos - that has increasingly drawn the attention of historians. One of the most important effects of the awareness of their professional identity was that police functions and work were no longer defined just by politicians and legislators but also by the individuals acting within the police forces who would increasingly be seen as professionals or experts.

Probably the biggest research theme in this context has been the emergence of criminal investigation and the key figure of the police detective, but the beat patrolman has also been subject of attention. Although there were major developments in this process during the twentieth-century, most of them originated from the late nineteenth century.

The third dimension of police change and subject of the historians’ attention is policing practices and the interactions between the police and the policed. Besides the political and professional construction of ideal types of policing behaviour, the moments of interaction between policemen and the public is an obvious focus of attention here, as well as how their relationships were structured and varied from hostile to amicable or just respected relationships.53 One of the earliest examples of this type of approach is the work of Wilbur Miller who compared the New York and London police authority. Miller claimed that whereas the English bobby exerted an impersonal, restrained authority, the American policeman held a more personal and less restrained type of authority resorting more to the use of physical force for example.54 More recently, Anja Johansen stressed that police modernisation or, using Norbert Elias’

‘civilizing process’ concept, police training should be examined in the context of the

‘civilising process of policing practices’; its main features were the submission to the

52 Clive Emsley & Haia Shpayer-Makov (Eds) Police Detectives in History, 1750 - 1950 (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006); Paul Lawrence ‘’’Scoundrels and Scallywags, and some honest men...” Memoirs and the Self-Image of French and English Policemen, c.1870-1939’, in Barry S. Godfrey, et al. (Eds), Comparative Histories of Crime (Cullompton: Willan Press, 2003), pp. 125-144. 53 Joanne Klein Invisible Men: The Secret Lives of Police Constables in Liverpool, Manchester and Birmingham, 1900-1939 (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2010), Chapters 6, 7 and 8. 54 Wilbur Miller Cops and Bobbies. Police Authority In New York and London 1830 - 1870 (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1977).

29 rule of law of policing practices, targeting police intervention at individuals rather than groups, and the use of policing methods that guaranteed effective law enforcement by using the least possible physical coercion.55 The reality of concrete practices and interaction revealed much more textured social relationships however. Within policing practices and police-public relations, profound beliefs and representations emerged and were consolidated over time on both sides. On the side of the police, social labelling practices supported many policing strategies. The way in which police perceived society and the social and moral classifications generated from policing practice - structured around categories like gender56, class57, ethnic group58 or simply the ‘marginal’ - became guides for action was a result of the organisational transformation as much as of the daily interactions with the ‘public’. In the concrete terrain of practices, questions arise as to how policemen embodied different types of authority and how these were constructed and represented.

One strand of investigation focuses on how and when the ‘idea of police’ solidified in the public mind. The expectation on the part of the public that police would come (or not) decisively marks police-public interaction and how the latter accepted (or not) the solutions devised by the police.59 As Proenga Junior and Muniz hint but only marginally addressed, the public perception of police credibility (and the unity of the

‘public’ category is a mere figure of speech) is a historically constructed given. The still

55 Anja Johansen ‘A process of civilisation? Legitimisation of violent policing in Prussian and French police manuals and instructions, 1880-1914’, European Review of History, 2007, Vol.14 (1), pp.49-71 (P-49). 56 Marcos Luiz Bretas ‘The sovereign’s vigilant eye? Daily policing and women in Rio de Janeiro, 1907- 1930, Crime, Histoire & Societes/Crime, History & Societies, 1998, vol.3(2), 1998, pp.55-71. 57 Clive Emsley “‘Mother, what did policemen do when there weren’t any motors?” The law, the police and the regulation of motor traffic in England, 1900-1939’, The Historical Journal, 1993, vol.36(2), pp.357-381. 58 Leo Lucassen “‘Harmful Tramps" Police professionalisation and gypsies in Germany, 1700 - 1945’, Crime Histoire & Societes/ Crime, History & Societies, 1997, vol.l(l), pp.29-50. 59 Domfcio Proenga Junior & Jacqueline Muniz ‘Stop or I’ll call the Police!’ The Idea of Police, or the Effects of Police Encounters Over Time’, British Journal of Criminology, 2006, 46 (2), pp.234-257 (pp.243-245).

30 unanswered question is: when did we start and get used to calling the police ? The assumption of these spheres of the police phenomenon leaves immense ground for historians, which only recently started to be critically addressed.

The nineteenth century marked the emergence of ‘bourgeois liberal societies’ and, by the end of the century, the emergence of the ‘working-class movement’; both processes put the actions of police forces under increasing public scrutiny. With the help of a growing press, not only in the number of titles but also of readers, police attitudes were constrained and shaped by the reverberation of police actions in the

‘publics’ that constituted the heterogeneous modem urban societies. The fact that middle classes increasingly used public spaces made police and policemen the focus of criticism in liberal minds. Arbitrary and violent policing practice led to public debate on the need to ‘modernise’ police and policing.60 At a micro, individualised level, citizens’ awareness of their legal rights also brought police change; the practice of complaint entered the sphere of police functioning with visible results, although this is an area only timidly researched by historians. Civil society and the role of citizenship in police functioning is however still an under-researched field.61

But the bourgeois public sphere did not only bring negative criticism of the police; positive representation also decisively marked the image of a police force and the course of its development. In this respect, one of the more blatant examples is the way English ‘respectable’ society represented the bobby and the Metropolitan Police as the ‘best in• the world’. fO The policeman increasingly entered the wider public imagery and became an iconic figure in some national contexts for good or bad reasons.

60 Clive Emsley ‘”The Thump of Wood on a Swede Turnip”: Police Violence in Nineteenth-Century England, Criminal’, Criminal Justice History: An International Annual, 1985, vol.6, pp.125-149; Johansen, ‘A process of civilisation?’. 61 Anja Johansen ‘Complain in vain? The development of a ‘police complaints culture’ in Wilhelmine Berlin’, Crime, Histoire & Societes/Crime, History & Societies, 2009, vol. 13 (2), pp. 119-142. 62 Clive Emsley, ‘The English Bobby: an indulgent tradition’ Roy Porter (ed.), Myths of the English (Cambridge, Polity Press, 1992), pp.l 15-135.

31 Representations of the policeman and his actions - prominently in the press and fictional literature - and the place of the police in popular culture became central factors in the ‘police phenomenon’.63

The aim of outlining these three categories of analysis in police modernisation is not to straitjacket the historical development of the police into standardized processes of change. These categories are more an analysis template of ideal types, subject to different national, political, cultural and social contexts that conferred on them different periodisations and hybrid arrangements. Despite the many changes in police historiography, there is still the tendency to see the political as the main driver of change, or ‘police reform’; however, the ways the ‘interactional dimension’ or the organisation conditioned the political process for instance, is still normally an unacknowledged role. For this work, it is of paramount importance to be aware of how these different dimensions were intertwined. Even if focusing more on one dimension than others, a balanced analysis that encompasses all these different dimensions in a single narrative, perceiving how they communicated and conditioned each other is central to fully assess the complexity of the modernisation of the police and policing practice. This work is an attempt to produce such a narrative.

1.3. A relational approach to the police: research questions, sources and methods.

Until very recently the police was a little researched theme in Portuguese historiography. The development of eighteenth-century police Intendancy and the early nineteenth-century military police forces were the subject of early works.64 Twentieth-

63 Haia Shpayer-Makov The Ascent of the Detective: Police Sleuths in Victorian and Edwardian England (Oxford: OUP, 2011), especially Part Two. 64 Jose Subtil ‘For9as de Seguranpa e Modos de Repressao (1760-1823)’, Fernando Marques da Costa, et al. (Eds), Do Antigo Regime ao Liberalismo, 1750-1850, (Lisbon: Vega, 1989), pp.32-41; Maria

32 century political policing was also an early topic of research.65 No research was conducted into police reform and the development of police forces in the nineteenth century, particularly in the second half, for many years. However, this situation has recently begun to change. Studies on parish-level policing structures and practices, on the introduction of the Policia Civil during the 1860s, on the social profile of the policeman at the end of the century and on the control of public order have begun to surface.66 However, like elsewhere in Europe, the police emerged in Portuguese historiography more as an offshoot of the study of crime and public order than a subject that stands on its own. As a result, the police are limited to the author’s research area and the ‘whole picture’ - that is, the police as a confluence of several political, social and cultural transformations - is normally overlooked.

Thus, this work aims to focus predominantly on the police and its organisation.

By examining the development of one particular police force - the Policia Civil - it will question how the debate on the police and policing emerged and developed in the late nineteenth century in Portugal. It does so by putting emphasis on the organisational development of the force: how was it organized and what schemas were engendered to

‘put the men on the streets’? Who joined the police and, more important, how were they

Alexandre LousadaEspagos de Sociabilidade em Lisboa: Finais do seculo XVIII a 1834 (PhD Thesis, (Lisbon: University of Lisbon, 1995); Flavio Borda d’Agua ‘L’lntendance generale de police de la cour et du royaume du Portugal: quelques reflexions sur son histoire et ses references europeennes’ in Catherine Denys (Ed.) Circulations policieres, 1750-1914, (Villeneuve d'Ascq: Presses Universitaires du Septentrion, 2012), pp.139-158. 65 Maria da Conceigao RibeiroA Policia Politica no Estado Novo: 1926 -1945 (Lisbon: Estampa, 1995); for recent works see Irene Pimentel A Histdria da Pide (Lisbon: Temas e Debates, 2007); Mario Ivani Esportare ilfascismo: Collaborazione di polizia e diplomazia culturale tra Italia fascista e Portogallo di Salazar (1928-1945) (Bologna: CLUEB, 2008). 66 Maria Jose Moutinho Santos, ‘Bonfim - Sec. XIX: a regedoria na seguran9a urbana’, Cadernos do Bonfim, 2001, vol.l, pp. 1-25; Fernando Catroga ‘O poder paroquial como “policia” no seculo XIX portugues’ in Pedro Tavares de Almeida & Tiago Pires Marques (Eds) Lei e Ordem: Justiga Penal, Criminalidade e Policia: Seculos XIX-XX, (Lisbon: Livros Horizonte: 2006), pp. 105-130; Maria Jose Moutinho Santos ‘A introdufao da policia civil em Portugal: entre projectos e realidades, os equivocos de uma politica de seguranfa’ in Almeida & Marques, Lei e Ordem, 2006, pp.131-145; Maria Joao Vaz ‘Prevenir o Crime: O corpo de Policia Civil de Lisboa’, Ler Histdria, vol.53, 2007, pp.9-46; Diego Palacios Cerezales Portugal a Coronhada: Protesto Popular e Ordem Publica nos Seculos XIX e XX (Lisbon: Tinta-da-China: 2011).

33 socialised in the authority role that joining the police presupposes? What formal and informal rules were produced to substantiate this role? How was it formed, particularly within the force but also in the public’s imagery? What strategies of policing performance were devised and how were they implemented? In general this works aims to assess how the police and policing practices evolved in a rapidly urbanising city.

These questions are answered by focusing on the police history from the perspective of the agency of the actors involved. Historian Patrick Joyce recently proposed an approach to study the state that might be fruitfully used to examine the historical development of the police in the multiple dimensions defined above. This approach proposes to examine the state in a ‘relational’ way; that is, as a set of formal and informal relations and then ‘to explore the ways in which micro-level pluralities of power do in fact cohere (or fail to cohere) into new forms and configurations at different levels and in different distinct ways’. f n This comes in the context of a more ample reconsideration of some criticisms of social history in the early 1990s. In fact, a current and apparently widespread critique of extreme cultural approaches by some of the first proponents of the ‘cultural turn’ has called attention to the need to refocus on agency instead of the customary weight on representations. William H. Sewell for example stresses that ‘agency entails an ability to coordinate one’s actions with others and against others, to form collective projects, to persuade, to coerce, and to monitor the simultaneous effect of one’s own and other’s activities’ and is thus essential to understand the production and reproduction of larger social structures.68 Formal organisations, as embodied in police institutions, can thus be seen first and foremost on relational grounds; this thesis analyses the shaping process of the police as a relational

67 Patrick Joyce ‘What is the social in social history?’,Past and Present, 2010, vol.206(l), pp.213-248 (p.239). 68 William H. Sewell Jr. Logics of History: Social theory and social transformation (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2005), p. 145.

34 framework, both internally and publicly. Instead of viewing the organisation as an emanation of the formal prescriptions contained in laws and statutes, they should be considered as the result of the relationships established between the elements acting within them. From this perspective, organisations materialize through the production and reproduction of organisational relationships and these processes are essential to understand the social role and the concrete reach of the institution’s actions.

The adoption of such a theoretical position is obviously constrained by the availability of empirical sources. This thesis is structured around one particular anchor source, the Policia Civil de Lisboa daily orders, which make this approach possible.69

The daily orders were comprised of several points and were issued every day by the

General Commissioner of the police (Commandant from August 1893) and distributed to all police stations to be read to or by every policeman. The orders dealt with subjects ranging from disciplinary cases, some with just the punishment but others lengthily explaining the case, assignment of specific services of duties, to notices of new legislation enacted by the government and the municipality, to give just a few examples.

They covered everything that was important to the everyday running of a police force that, from the 1890s onwards, comprised more than one thousand men and were part of everyday work. By using police daily orders, this work aims to examine the daily management and operation of an urban police force, work routines, the problems and strategies found to solve them. Daily orders allow us to do this from a point of view where the leadership’s aspirations conflicted with what they perceived as taking place on the streets and in police stations; this perception was built from what they witnessed personally or was reported to them by other members of the organisation. Daily orders

69 Daily Orders are a series inArquivo Policia Civil de Lisboa at the Portuguese National Archives (from now on IAN/TT-APCL) constituted of 49 books ranging between 28 October of 1872 and 31 December 1922 (from NT213 NP075 to NT262 NP078). For the period of our study the only missing orders are between 15-09-1898 and 08-02-1900, and 25-08-1906 and 05-11-1907.

35 were the basic and most important form of organisational communication used within the police during the period under study and was only slightly challenged from the

1890s onwards by the use of telephones. They always remained the organisation’s core repository of rules. These rules were constructed from mixing the formal Tetter of the law’ which police were supposed to follow and enforce with the informal and pragmatic evidence emerging on a daily basis from the streets in relation to how police work was to be organised or how policing should be performed.

The importance of reading the daily order either in a collective form, on parade, or individually from the station’s notice board was regularly reasserted.70 Until formal and printed manuals were produced at the end of the century, daily orders functioned as the factual police manuals. The messages they contained were ingrained in policemen’s minds and in the public’s representation of policemen. In 1908, a policeman who served in Lisbon’s force between 1897 and 1900 (moving then to a police force in Azores isles) remembered his Commandant in Lisbon for ‘either in the imposition of punishments or in the habitual recommendations published in the daily order, he only wanted to conciliate police duties with the demands of the public’.71 Caricatures constantly represented policemen shouting: “They are the orders” (with a rural accent) (see

Illustration 1). Even today, when a plethora of communication channels exists within the police and daily orders have to a great extent lost their previous contents, significantly they are still viewed by police officers as the ‘barracks newspaper’, by some considered dirty laundry (in the case of the disciplinary cases) but still read by all.72 Although in the last two decades of the period under study, the telephone began to

70 The subject was directly addressed in IAN/TT-APCL, NT223 NP086, Daily Order [DO] Number[N.]151, 30-05-1888, Point [P.]l; NT231 NP093, DO N.122, 02-05-1895, N.7. More importantly, it was normally reasserted on the occasions that a permanent order about police service was issued. 71 Alfredo Cesar Macedo de Faria A reforma da Policia (Ponta Delgada: Typ. Ruy Moraes, 1908), p.28. 72 Susana Durao Patrulha e Proximidade: uma etnografia da policia em Lisboa (Coimbra: Almedina, 2008), p.293.

36 assume a more prominent place, the main organisational channel of information in

Policia Civil was characterised as being a collective process of knowledge transmission and sharing of information. Daily orders thus constitute a privileged source to understand how relations inside the police force evolved as well as policing practices.

Illustration 1 - Harassing a pedestrian, a policeman screams: "they are the orders"!

Source: A Parodia, N°18,16-05-1900

The analogy between daily orders and daily newspapers provides a good image to understand the relevance of the daily orders within the police’s organisational context. Just as the newspapers responded to the public’s demands, the prescriptive nature of daily orders resulted more from a ‘negotiation’ between leadership and the rank and file than a one-way channel merely containing the views of police commissioners about how police should be organised or policing should be done. Police commissioners used the daily orders to transmit a message of what was to be done and how. However, this meant they had to have (and in general did have) a perception of what was happening on the streets, the weaknesses in work organisation, the difficulties and resistance policemen encountered when interacting with the population. In the end, orders produced a compromise between what commissioners conceived as ideal

37 policing and the actual performance on the streets. In the same way that courts, and especially police courts, were places of negotiation, the police as a work organisation was also a ‘place’ where ideals and conceptions of policing and class, social and cultural identities were always in contention. An organisational culture took form through the ‘discussions’ around disciplinary cases or calling attention to the ways some services were being carried out. Overall, the daily orders are probably one of the best sources to grasp the dynamics of contention and negotiation in the shaping of an organisation. It is in their double meaning - a view from the top of police hierarchy and a resonance of street level policing practices - that the daily orders are taken here as the anchor. Moreover, daily orders are a relevant source to reassess and discuss some of the ontological discussions within the discipline, in particular those devoted to the history of the everyday life and micro-history: daily orders can provide a privileged ground to 7% overcome the micro/macro opposition, a key issue in recent debates.

What did daily orders say and what they did not say? Daily orders pictured routine issues in a police force. As major events like riots or notorious crimes were not part of the daily routine, and thus required other forms of communication or a more secret circulation of information, nothing can be gleaned about them in the orders.

Much of the information contained in the daily orders depicts occasions that took place on the streets. Some had been witnessed first-hand by the general commissioner; others followed the regular communication channels of the organisation and were interpreted second-hand by the general commissioner. Daily orders thus constituted snapshots of police reality with understandable problems of partiality and inaccuracy, just like other

73 John Brewer ‘Microhistory and the histories of everyday life’, Cultural and Social History, 2010, vol.7(l), pp.87-109 (p.99); Fillipo de Vivo, ‘Prospect or refuge? Micro-history, history on the large scale. A response’, Cultural and social history, 2010, vol.7 (3) pp.387-397 (p.390).

38 similar sources.74 Nevertheless, their relevance as an historical source resides not so much in their accuracy but in the fact that a piece of information or occurrence that reached the top of police hierarchy was selected for analysis and issued to the rest of the force and is therefore an interpretation of policing practices shared by the whole force.

The main difference with other sources normally used, like police manuals or public representations of the police, is that these ‘ideals’ are taken from the daily reality of the force. In fact, daily orders puts us in a position where the ‘ideals’ were at the same time routinely devised and routinely challenged by the concrete practices of the men on the streets.

All available police daily orders for the period under consideration were examined for this work. The information considered relevant was transcribed from the orders books (to a document now with around 200,000 words) and then all orders were classified in subjects (‘work organisation’, ‘stations’, ‘discipline’, ‘uniforms’, ‘bylaws’,

‘traffic’, ‘crime’, ‘prostitution’). How was the information selected or considered relevant? As their name indicates, daily orders mostly contain information focused on that specific day of service; however, as was already noted, they also contain more general information about the way the police functioned. That information was transcribed whenever more general considerations were made. Disciplinary cases provide a clear example of how selection was made. Hundreds, if not thousands, of policemen were punished for being found drunk on duty. Normally this represented a line in the order of the day which gave the number of the policeman in question, the punishment he had received and the reason, in this case a short ‘for being found drunk’.

But the general commissioners of the police regularly used the daily orders to explain more about one case (or one particular subject) in order to correct how things were

74 Peter Burke ‘Performing History: The Importance of occasions’, Rethinking History, 2005, vol.9(l), pp.35-52 (p.47).

39 being made in the force. In some cases of drunkenness, for example, commissioners detailed the particular occurrence more extensively, explaining how it had happened, what was the fault of the policeman and how all others should behave in the future. It was this type of information that was transcribed from the daily orders. Thus, although a quantitative approach was also considered (if one subject were more or less ‘discussed’ in the orders), the method used in this work was mainly to analyse and interpret the discourses of the daily orders.

Other types of source were also used either because daily sources were still non­ existent (in the chapter that examines the creation of Policia Civil) or in order to balance the somewhat fragmentary nature of daily orders. Thus, the archival evidence collected in the Ministry of Interior archive is another main source, in particular from the division

nc that was responsible for dealing with police issues. While daily orders provide data about what was happening inside Policia Civil and how the relations between their members were being established, the data from the Ministry of Interior gives us information of how a plethora of actors conceived police and its functioning. The correspondence located in the Ministry of Interior archive informs us about the decisions of ministers as well as the views of the officials working in the ministry, the key judgments of the Civil Governor of Lisbon who was the direct channel of communication between the ministry and the police, and other state authorities who were asked to give their opinions on public safety issues. The Ministry of Interior archive also tells us about complaints written to the ministry about one particular occurrence or the police service in general or, more occasionally, the complaints of policemen about working conditions or some decision from their superiors. Thus, this

75The ‘Direcgao Geral de Administra^ao Politica e Civil’. The designation for the Portuguese Ministry of Interior in this period was ‘Ministerio do Reino’, the most accurate translation would be Ministry of Home Affairs. But, because ‘Ministry of Interior’ is now a more universal and understandable designation it is used here instead.

40 source allows us to examine the decisions that the top of the state’s bureaucratic machine took on police matters but also how the police was viewed by other actors within the state apparatus. The Ministry of Interior archive materials gave essential information about the functioning of Policia Civil. As Lisbon’s police leaders and ministers and ministry officials regularly met face to face, many discussions and even decisions went unwritten; however, this was not the case with Oporto where the distance meant that all requirements and reports had to in writing. Thus, it is assumed that documented evidence related to Oporto’s Policia Civil, is also applicable to the

Lisbon police force.

In addition to Ministry data, the Portuguese parliamentary debates constituted the main source for the chapter on the creation of the police. These debates provide essential information on how the political elite conceived the police in its multiple dimensions as the essentially addresses the political process that led to the reform of the

Portuguese police system, of which the creation of Policia Civil was just one part in a larger reform. The parliamentary debates are not so extensively used in the rest of the work. The use of newspaper information in this work deserves a particular explanation.

Although newspapers are a common source in this type of work, privileged ‘internal’ sources of the police and the state at large were placed at the core of this work because they reveal a rich texture of multiple conflicts and negotiations. Thus newspapers play a more secondary role than usual. They were however used on key occasions: when articles in the press were debated in the Ministry and in the police through the daily orders. This direct relation between daily press and state practices warrants much deeper investigation that the nature of this work did not allow. In relation to periodicals, numerous caricatures portraying policemen were also used not only with a mere illustrative objective but as a privileged source to interpret the place of the policeman in

41 Lisbon society. Finally, police statistics were used in the last chapter which deals with the performances of policemen on the streets; although these were little published during the period under consideration, they provide a broader picture of police activity.

1.4. The thesis structure

Although some aspects are emphasised more than others, the structure of the thesis aims to address the three dimensions of police change outlined in the literature review in this introduction. The next chapter will deal with the political process that led to the creation of Policia Civil in 1867. It will show how the police was inserted in the governmental agenda of Christmas 1861 and endured until 1867. More than just an institutional reform, it was the very understanding of ‘police’ that was changing. Policia Civil was just one piece in a puzzle of a complete reform of the Portuguese police system in 1867.

Chapter 3 begins the discussion on the shaping and functioning of the police organisational structure. This chapter examines the territorialisation process of the police by emphasising the importance of placing police stations throughout the city space. Stations were not only important because they located police in extreme proximity with different neighbourhoods, but also because they increasingly became a bureaucratic place - i.e. places where bureaucratic practices could be carried and organisationally controlled - they thus became anchors of the whole police structure.

Chapter 4 continues the examination of police organisation now focusing on the individuals that composed it throughout the period under study. It begins with a social characterisation of policemen and police work and then focuses on police leaders and how they are representative of the ways the institution had been changing since the end

42 of the 1880s; it concludes with the great functional division within police services:

‘public safety’ and ‘criminal investigation’.

Although still with the organisation as the main focus of attention, chapter 5 begins to move to the streets - the privileged territory of police action. In Shaping the

Policeman, it will be seen how many internal rules related to the figure of the uniformed policeman were triggered by the state of everyday relationships with the public. The chapter concludes by seeing how the process of shaping the policeman and the social conditions seen in the previous chapter led to the emergence of a professional identity within the uniformed police force.

Chapter 6 finally puts the interactions between policemen and the public on the streets in the spotlight. It begins by looking at the internal discussions that emerged from them before making a qualitative examination of the available police returns for this period. At this point, the focus will be on three types of ‘numbers’ / ‘occurrences’: fines, arrests; and the ‘services’. These will demonstrate the contrasting nature of police-public relations.

The conclusion will analyse the overall development of the police in Lisbon during this period pointing out the intertwining of the political, organisational and interactional dimension in the police transformation. In particular, attention will be drawn to the central role of the police station as a material place and a hub of social relations, in the organisational development of the police and also in the formation of an

‘idea of police’ in Lisbon society.

43 2. The creation of the Policia Civil and the Liberal transformation

of the Portuguese police system

When the men from the newly created Policia Civil began patrolling the streets

of Lisbon and Oporto(250 and 130 respectively) in January of 1868, the inhabitants of

both cities must have had mixed feelings - a sense of novelty but also of normality. Both

Lisbon and Oporto were already policed cities at the time. The establishment of the

Policia Civil in Lisbon and Oporto was the culmination of nearly a decade in which police reform was permanently on the government agenda. The need to reform the existing police structures was constantly reaffirmed in urban policing with a civilian police and in rural policing with the failed attempt to create a national gendarmerie.

This chapter seeks to examine this reform movement placing it in broader political debates advanced by the new liberal elite that came to power in 1834 focusing on the nature, form and role of the state in society. As will be seen, the police reform movement had multiple effects: it affected the institutional form of the Portuguese police system; the organisational shaping of the proposed new institutions; and, finally, the reform was based on new conceptions about how state agents should relate and interact with the population. The chapter will thus be structured around these three dimensions embedded in the police reform process during the 1860s.

Although later than other countries, the reform of the police system in Portugal was in line with the modernisation movement underway in all European countries in the early nineteenth century. For example, in the leading state behind Italy’s unification,

Piedmont (a recurrent example for Portuguese political elite), the Carabinieri, which had been created in 1814, was relegated to the countryside in 1852 and the Guardie di

44 Publica Sicurezza was formed which was a civil police force (civil because exclusively controlled by the Ministry Interior) to police the largest cities.76 Throughout Europe the ideal institutional type for urban police was built around the image of the Metropolitan

Police of London, founded in 1829; this was a full-time operating paid body of men, formally controlled by the government, hierarchically structured and bureaucratically controlled, undertaking a mandate to maintain order and public security. 77 Outside major cities the French model of gendarmerie, that accompanied the Napoleonic invasions, had consolidated in continental Europe ‘bringing the state to the countryside’ during the first half of the nineteenth century.78 The discussion in Portugal was thus in the context of the consolidation of a dual system: civilian versus military, urban versus rural; which would dominate police systems in Continental Europe in the course of the century. But although institutional change was the most visible aspect of the political project of police modernisation, it conceals a much more profound re-conceptualisation of how the methods of policing were to be organised and how the interaction between citizens and police authorities should be processed. Police historians have noted that institutional transformation was accompanied by changes in the organisation and in the policing practices.79

This chapter is therefore organized in light of these multiple lines of questioning police transformation during the nineteenth-century. After this introduction, which will

76 Jonathan Dunnage The Italian Police and the Rise of Fascism: A Case Study of the Province of Bologna, 1897-1925 (Westport, Conn. And London: Praeger, 1997), p.3; Steven C. Hughes ‘Poliziotti, Carabinieri e “Policemens”: il booby inglese nella polizia Italiana’,Le Carte e la storia, 1996, vol.2, pp.22-31 (p.23). 77 Clive Emsley Policing and its Context 1750-1870 (London: Macmillan, 1983), pp.53-75, 91-92, 100- 101. 78 Clive Emsley ‘A typology of nineteenth-century police’ in Crime, Histoire & Societes / Crime, History & Societies, 1999, vol.3 (1), pp.29-44 (p.37); See also Clive Emsley Gendarmes and the State in Nineteenth Century Europe ((Oxford: OUP, 1999). 79 Anja Johansen ‘A Process of Civilisation? Legitimisation of Violent Policing in Prussian and French Police Manuals and Instructions, 1880-1914’, in European Review of History—Revue Europe'enne d ’Histoire, 2007, Vol. 14 (1), pp. 49-71 (p.49); Hsi-Huey Liang The Rise of Modern Police and the European State System From Mettemich to Second World War (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), p.4.

45 conclude with a brief description of police reform in Portugal from the late eighteenth century until the early 1860s, the various proposals for police reform that emerged in

Portugal in the 1860s are traced. This is followed by a discussion of the institutional and organisational implications of the proposed reforms. A third section observes the transfer of reform to police functions, discussing how public safety was a category that included multiple fields of action. Finally, is seen how the transformation of the police system also meant a change in the logics of police action; in how policemen were supposed to act, to perform their functions as police agents. In general, this chapter will show that the relatively crystallized concepts that were already circulating throughout

Europe can be identified in the discourses in parliamentary debates, by officials in the

Ministries and in the press, because this broad process of political re-thinking of

‘police’ under a new liberal political culture emerged in Portugal later than in most of the other European countries.

Like many other countries in continental Europe, the ‘police’ was at the core of state reform during the eighteenth century. The Intendencia Geral de Policia (IGP) was created in the wake of the 1755 earthquake and the reconstruction efforts that followed in 1760. Embodying the cameralist notion of police, the IGP was responsible for the repression of crime and control of public order but also had a panoply of functions including street-lighting, funding for public theatres and educational grants to study abroad. The IGP was essentially a bureaucratic office without operational capacity to enforce police regulations. The Guarda Real de Policia was created in 1801 first in

Lisbon to overcome this problem and soon extended to Oporto. This was a military police force performing patrols throughout the city. Formally controlled by the military, it often had conflicts with the heads of IGP. After the defeat of the French, the system

46 remained the same: IGP with a broad police function and GRP patrolling the streets.80

The first Portuguese liberal experience (1820-1823) was not a time of rupture and transformation in the police system. Despite debates about the urgency of reforming the police and criminal justice system, the notion of ‘police’ expressed in them still owed more to the earlier tradition than a concept of police as a force in charge of maintaining the internal peace.81

Only after the final victory of the liberal side in 1834 did the institutional and organisational police framework begin changing effectively. In this year, the Guardas

Municipais were created in Lisbon and Oporto. Despite their name, they were directly controlled by the central government. And although the name was directly influenced by the Parisian institution with the same name, Municipal Guards were created in the image of the London Metropolitan Police - urban, civil police forces controlled by the central government. For the Portuguese politicians, the influence was not altogether strange. In 1829, Robert Peel was trying to convince the British Parliament for the second time that the creation of a centralised police force, but not military, was the best way to ensure the safety of citizens in a big city without endangering the English liberties; at the time, hundreds of Portuguese liberal refugees lived in England where they would have followed the intense debates in parliament and the reactions to the

o9 arrival of the first Peelers or Bobbies on London streets. In 1855, Rodrigo da Fonseca

Magalhaes, then Minister of the Interior, recalled the creation of the Guarda Municipal:

80 On the dynamic between IGP and GRP see Maria Alexandre LousadaEspagos de Sociabilidade em Lisboa: Finais do seculo XVIII a 1834 (PhD Thesis, (Lisbon: University of Lisbon, 1995); Jose Subtil ‘Forgas de seguranga e modos de repressao (1760-1823)’ in Fernando Marques da Costa, et al. (eds), Do Antigo Regime ao Liberalismo 1750-1850, (Lisbon: Vega, 1989), pp.32-41. 81 See the lengthy report on public safety and public order presented by the Minister of Justice (and not Interior) to the parliament in Diario das Cortes da Cortes Gerais e Extraordinarias da Nagao Portugueza, 1822, Tomo VIII, pp.55-73. 82 David Philips “‘A New Engine of Power and Authority”: The Institutionalisation of Law-Enforcement in England 1780-1830’ in V. A. C. Gatrell, et al., Crime and the Law: The social history of crime in Western Europe since 1500, (London: Europa, 1980), pp.155-189. See also on the Grey ministry’s

47 ‘I was ordered by the government in 1833 to propose a project of organisation to the municipal guard; I wrote the draft and handed it to the government. I did not invent anything in it [nao pus nada de minha casa\; I sought for the organisation of the guard in London, and conformed with this system, I tried to divide the body into sections according to the different neighborhoods, giving control to a general director (...) It was a purely civilian organisation, only with a badge - a round hat, a blue coat (...). My project was discussed in the ministry of war, and people much more knowledgeable than I in this subject showed me that there were drawbacks in our land for such an organisation.’83

Regardless of this initial configuration, Guarda Municipal suffered an

irreversible process of militarisation during the unstable early years of a liberal regime.

The Public Safety Corps were formed in 1838 to police the rest of the country; this was

a military police corps controlled by the Governadores Civis (the Portuguese version of the French Prefects) in all districts of the country. Although recognised as a useful

security and administration tool, the State's difficulty in effectively controlling these bodies ultimately dictated their end, followed by a reaffirmation of the regular army’s police mission.84 Early in the second half of the nineteenth century, the Portuguese police system was thus constituted by military police forces in the two largest cities, the regular army policing the countryside in small detachments, and the state administrative machinery composed of civil governors and municipal administrators and at the base of the pyramid, the ‘unpaid agents of administration’ - Regedores and Cabos - men chosen at the parish level to perform policing duties without receiving any remuneration.

attempt to set up a national force in 1832, Robert Storch & David Philips ‘Whigs and Coppers: the Grey Ministry's National Police Scheme, 1832, in Historical Research, 1994, vol.67 (162), pp.75-90. 83Diario da Camara dos Deputados / Houses of Parliament Diary [DCD], 22-5-1855, p.292. 84 Diego Palacios Cerezales ‘Estado, Regimen y Orden Publico en el Portugal Contemporaneo (1834- 2000)’ (PhD Thesis, Madrid: Universidad Complutense, 2008), pp.53-75.

48 2.1. The police of public safety in the Portuguese political agenda during the 1860s

On Christmas Day 1861, the streets of Lisbon were taken by the mob and an unusual turbulence spread across the city as the culmination of a climate of tension that had endured since the beginning of 1861 with the onset of the Associagao Patridtica (AP), a left-wing political association, and the death of the king and two of his brothers in the early days of November, officially because of miasmatic infection though rumours had it they had been poisoned by the government. The Christmas Riots, as they became known, triggered the reaction of government and put police on the political agenda.

After the acclamation of the new king, D. Luis, on 22nd December, the AP called a rally for Christmas Day. On the morning of the scheduled day, a crowd gathered in the main square of the city. The tension grew with the decision of the protesters to send a delegation to Ajuda palace where the new king and his father were at the time. On their way to the palace, some members of the association decided to enter the Town Hall nearby to ask the councilmen to join the delegation, thus giving the protest more symbolic power. What by then could already be characterised as a ‘mob’ forcibly entered the Town Hall and disrupted an ongoing meeting. What happened next was a lively assembly between protesters and the city council, also attended by the Civil

Governor and other authorities controlled by the government who could do nothing to stop it descending into a riot. At the end of the tumultuous meeting, protesters and authorities (local and central) headed towards the palace. Afterwards, the lack of intervention by the Guarda Municipal at this moment was noted by commentators.

When the crowd arrived at the palace, the king’s father, D. Fernando, tried to calm the protesters from the window. The crowd cheered the king and his father but started shouting against the politicians. Already late in the morning, the protesters dispersed in

49 small groups heading back towards the centre of the city. The situation seemed under control but late in the afternoon groups still gathered in the streets around the Ministry of Finance in downtown Lisbon and forced entry into the building. Avila and Louie, main government figures, were in the building and fled to the adjacent Navy Arsenal building in fear. At night, chaos spread across the city and mobs went in pursuit of the

‘reactionaries’. Although the homes of prominent politicians, Louie, Avila, Casal

Ribeiro, Martens Ferrao, among others, were attacked, oddly enough, the police authorities did not intervene. Only on the following day did the army take up position in

Praga do Comercio. The day went on with the populace staring at and occasionally

oc teasing the soldiers.

With tension still running high, two days later the prime minister, Louie, presented a proposal in parliament to create "civilian police forces" in charge of maintaining order and public safety in Lisbon and Oporto. The meagre four articles that constituted the proposal added very little that could elucidate about the intentions of the government. The preamble of the proposal indicated some guidelines. Among them, and similarly to the fears over public order that formed the backdrop to police reform discussions in the early nineteenth century in other European countries, the need for a new police arose from the inability of non-professional agents of administration and police and the military to guarantee that peace and tranquillity prevailed. And this inability was because ‘police service requires learning and a special education; it needs long practice and, it needs to be said, a certain vocation’ by the agents devoted to it.86

Following this, the project had to wait for parliamentary discussion and approval.

85 For a more detailed description of the Christmas Riots see Luis Espinha da Silveira & Paulo Jorge Fernandes D. Luis (Lisbon: Cfrculo de Leitores, 2006), pp.124-138; Cerezales, ‘Estado, Regimen’, pp.90- 104. 86 DCD, 27-12-1861, p.5288.

50 About a month later, on January 21, 1862, parliament began discussing a report on the events of Christmas 1861. Following only occasional references in parliamentary debates over the years, the issue of police reform entered the political debate as a central political issue requiring urgent measures during the discussion of this report. However, more than a mere response to the riots, the debate essentially highlighted the need to reorganise the police system in the image of the demands of a liberal political regime.

Although triggered by the riots, the discussion about police reform was not just a response to them. Lobo D Avila, a figure from the left, for example, warned:

‘We need to organise more adequately the police (many supports). It is one thing that had been left in the most complete oblivion and neglect by all our governments; we cannot accuse either alone; we have always neglected this important aspect of public administration because we have R7 always relied on the good character of the Portuguese people.’

The report was approved in the lower chamber but in the upper chamber an uncomfortable stalemate prevailed. In direct consequence of this, the government was reorganised and some ministers replaced in February, thus delaying the discussion and vote on the urban civil police project. In March 1862, a member of parliament asked for information about what was by then the almost forgotten police project without response.88 A month later, the same parliamentarian insisted on the question. On behalf of the parliamentary committee on public administration issues, Sa Nogueira responded that the issue was still awaiting developments due to the change in government.89 In

June, Sa Nogueira himself asked the Interior Minister about the project. However,

Nogueira, a supporter of the government, already knew more than was publicly known; his question was about a hypothetical project to reform the police in the whole country

87 DCD, 25-01-1862, p.280. 88 DCD, 01-03-1862, p.672. 89 DCD, 26-04-1862, p.1110.

51 and not only in Lisbon and Oporto. The minister replied accordingly, asserting that he was studying the question and new projects would be presented to parliament at the start of the following year90. From December 1861 to June 1862 the debate shifted from a circumscribed reform in Lisbon and Oporto to a national reform of the police system with the possibility of creating a national rural police.

This was neither totally surprising or out of context. There had been a series of riots in the north provinces of Minho and Tras-os-Montes and in the Atlantic isles of

Azores at the start of 1862. Authorities all over the country had not responded to the recrudescence of popular resistance to property tax rolls and the new weights and measures laws and the constant breaches of the ‘principle of authority’.91 Moreover, the construction of railway lines began in extensive rural areas in the south of Portugal in

1862. Large masses of workers were spread across fields in improvised camps and in small towns with predicable consequences for public disorder. The correspondence received and sent from the Ministry of Interior, reported increasingly frequent conflicts among workers and between workers and the local population.92 This context made the need for a rural police force across the entire territory more relevant and effectively explains its entry on the political agenda.

However, the expectations were not fully met in 1863. Anselmo Braamcamp,

Minister of Interior, presented a new proposal for the creation of a civilian police force, now only in Lisbon in May when the parliamentary session was already well under way.93 Although more developed than the previous project, its most significant aspects were the unambiguous affirmation that the Guarda Municipal and the new body of

90 DCD, 09-06-1862, p.1601. 91 Diego Palacios Cerezales, ‘O princfpio da autoridade e os motins anti-fiscais de 1862’ in Analise Social, 2007, vol. XLII (182), pp.35-53. 92 Arquivo Nacional Torre Tombo - Ministerio Reino / Portuguese National Archives - Ministry of Interior Archive [IAN/TT-MR], Lv.1686. 93 DCD, 10-06-1863, pp.1839-1840.

52 police would both comprise the city’s police system, and the indication that the latter would be controlled by the Civil Governor. This project was the public and more formal face of the political will to reform the system of public safety. However, as already hinted, plans were being sketched in the privacy of the office for a more comprehensive reform of the police system. Later, in October 1865, the general secretary of the Interior

Ministry reported to the then Minister Martens Ferrao that Braamcamp had in fact written a draft proposal to create a national gendarmerie in 1862 that had been rejected by the Finance Minister, due to the excessive expense involved.94 Whatever the plans, they were jeopardised by governmental instability. The constant political instability in

1863 with the systematic attacks weakening the government again had the effect of bringing a halt to all projects on police reform. Yet the matter was not forgotten in parliament. Already in 1864, Martens Ferrao, then still just an important figure the opposition benches, invited the government to Took urgently at the reform of the public

95 safety system .

The opportunity to resurrect police reform as a political issue came with the

International Industrial Exhibition inaugurated in Oporto in September 1865. The

Agenda Polidal Portuense (Oporto Police Agency), created especially for this event, provided the opportunity to test some of the ideas discussed over the past few years.

The exhibition had a strong symbolic meaning for the state that wanted to prove its ability to modernise the country. These exhibitions were very much in vogue in Europe during this period and constituted showcases of modernity, not only in the exhibition itself but in everything that surrounded them. The connection between these type of event and police modernisation was indeed not specific to Portugal. The Universal

Exhibition in London in 1851 was a pivotal moment of national and international

94 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.3035, L°15, N°1761. The plans for a national rural police force drafted by Braamcamp are still in the Ministry of Interior archive. 95 DCD, 23-05-1864, p.387.

53 affirmation for the Metropolitan Police.96 And with the impending Universal Exhibition in Paris a few years later in 1855, Napoleon III sent a commission to England to study the London model of police.97 As Oporto prepared for this great moment of

‘civilisation’ and ‘progress’, a modem police force was clearly part of the project.

Oporto’s Guarda Municipal was still operating in the city and after a few hesitations over the year, the new force was on the streets at the opening of the exhibition in September 1865. The police agency was directed by the Civil Governor; it consisted of 140 men in blue uniforms and armed only with a small sword. Its headquarters ‘office’ was located in the city’s Town Hall and its functions were to deal with the ‘urgent needs’ of the visitors and ensuring the security of individuals and propriety.98 On the opening day of the Exhibition a case reported in the newspapers showed how the Portuguese police system was seen as backward in relation to other -

‘civilised’ and ‘European’ - examples. A cavalry patrol of the Guarda Municipal tried, at a lengthened trot, to disperse a crowd gathered in a nearby square to see the arrival of the visitors, leaving everybody ‘filled with fear’ and ‘causing many to fall and be run over’.99 The newspapers reported this as an evident example of old-fashioned policing, performed by police forces that used force indiscriminately. In contrast, and though still to come in Portugal, good policing was represented by the newspapers by resorting to foreign examples (mainly French and English) as a practice that used specific techniques to avoid unnecessary force unnecessarily, thus earning the respect of the people. When the Exhibition closed in early 1866, the number of men employed in the police agency was reduced. But given its good acceptance and image in the city, the

96 Emsley, Policing and its Context, pp.76-77; Philip T. Smith Policing Victorian London: Political Policing, Public Order, and the London Metropolitan Police, (Westport: Greenwood Press, 1985), pp.89- 93. Paul Lawrence, ‘They have an admirable..., 2012, pp.2-3 97Quentin Deluermoz, ‘Presences d’Etat: Police et societe a Paris (1854-1880)’ in Annales HSS, 2009, 64e annee n. 2, pp.435-460 (p.439). 98 O Nacional, 14-10-1865. 99 O Nacional, 19-09-1865.

54 new Minister of the Interior, Martens Ferrao, decided it should remain operational. In

June 1866 parliament discussed the legalisation of the monies already spent on the agency and budgeted for the following year. It transpired that the reform of the entire police system was again or, more accurately, still on the government’s agenda.

Criticising the high cost of this police force, a prominent figure on the opposition benches, Carlos Bento, exclaimed ‘I do not understand very well why this body of police is to be kept. For the experiment of what, Gentleman?’100 The experiment - the

"test" - to be kept underway was a ‘purely civil’ police force.

The new government, in which Martens Ferrao was a key figure, was significantly stronger than its predecessors. The ‘fusion’ government, as it became known, was an alliance between the two main political parties and, expect for some almost insignificant oppositionist fringes, it dominated the entire parliament. A sense of political security partly explains the audacity of the government’s proposals, in particular those of the Ministry of Interior. Between a new administrative code and a public education reform, Martens Ferrao presented a proposal on 31 January, 1867 to create civil police forces in Lisbon, Oporto and the other district capitals of the country.

The new police in the two largest cities would be paid directly by state monies, and the other forces by district monies (i.e. the result of contributions from all municipalities of a given district). The proposed bill also included the creation of a new means of countryside policing, the guardas campestres. Using the direct translation from the

French gardes champetres, these men, who were supposed to act alone, were paid by the municipalities; however, they were put under the control of the Municipal

Administrator, which was nominated by the central government and controlled by the

Civil Governor. A few days later the government presented the proposal for the creation

100 DCD, 05-06-1865, p.1811.

55 of the Guarda Civil to parliament.101 With the name copied from the Spanish gendarmerie, this was a national military police force operationally in the service of civil authorities. Contrary to earlier plans, the Guarda Municipal of Lisbon and Oporto would be incorporated in the new gendarmerie. Overall, these proposals meant a radical transformation of the Portuguese police system. It was also significant that what was then being witnessed was no longer an extemporaneous proposal made in the heat of the moment, as in December 1861, but an overall project to reform the public safety system that had been thought through, studied and matured over the last few years. This was also an evident effort to move the country closer what was seen in other European countries. After leaving the government, which meant among other things, the abandoning of the gendarmerie project, Martens Ferrao would recall:

‘But who dares now to speak on the Civil Guard?!... Speak all nations from the moment one gets to Badajoz [first Spanish town on the southern border] until one reaches Russia. To find a nation in Europe that does not have the Civil Guard, or the Gendarmerie, or the king’s Carabinieri ...that everything is the same. I have gathered the regulations of this service in the main nations, I studied all these organisations, [and] except that there is in England, which is different, are [all] based on the principles that governed the organisation of the French gendarmerie, with the only difference in Spain, which have no distinction between the police of the capital and the provinces.102

Reflecting something common to all discourses of the time, Martens Ferrao clearly expressed that the evidence of the need to reform the police system was decisively supported by the comparison with other European examples. The internationalisation of the debate had its roots in the biographical experience of the

Portuguese liberal political elite which, after 1828, was led to exile by the absolutist regime of D. Miguel. The experience of living in a foreign country like England - a number of Portuguese political refugees were living in this country when discussions

101 DCD, 06-02-1867, pp.549-551. 102 DCD, 14-05-1868, pp.1090-1091.

56 for the creation of the Metropolitan Police were going on in England in 1829 a - or

France was pivotal to provide contact with other models of police and policing.103

Benefiting also from the communication revolution that made the reading of foreign newspapers much more common, the political elite used other countries’ examples to guide the political debate and policy making on the police system after 1834.

Due to the almost revolutionary effect of many of the government’s proposals, the political atmosphere in 1867 was the fieriest since the beginning of Regeneration in

1851, with numerous and large meetings, a novelty for the time, throughout the country.

The government's ambitious programme of reforms resulted in strong resistance from almost all parts of the country. The most debated issue at the time was public finance.

State expenditures had grown steadily in the previous decade without a corresponding increase in the revenues. The risk of the state’s bankruptcy was high. Although the opposition repeated at length the argument of ‘savings’, the government proposed a substantial taxes increase. The most controversial of the series of direct and indirect new and reformed taxes was the new ‘general consumption tax’. To agitate the situation even further, the new administrative code contemplated the suppression of six districts and numerous municipalities, increasing the supervisory powers of the central government under the maxim: political centralisation and administrative decentralisation. The creation of the Guarda Civil was among the more contested measures during 1867 because of its cost. Partly as a result of the pressure from the streets, but also due to the busy parliamentary schedule, the discussion of the Guarda Civil project was postponed to 1868. The Policia Civil project was approved more smoothly in June and promulgated by the king in early July. No time was wasted and in the second half of

103 On the effects of the exile in the political learning of the Portuguese liberals, see Isabel Nobre Vargues & Luis Reis Torgal ‘Da Revolufao a Contra-Revolugao: Vintismo, Cartismo, Absolutismo. O Exflio Politico’ In Luis Reis Torgal & Joao Louren^o Roque (Eds) Historia de Portugal: Quinto Volume: O Liberalismo (1807-1890), (Lisbon: Estampa, 1998), pp.57-76 (pp.67-76).

57 1867 the new police forces were organised in Lisbon and Oporto. The Civil Governors of the two cities actively participated in the process which began with the territorial division of the two towns and the important task of defining the regulations for the new police. Recruitment began immediately after the publication of the law and lasted until

October 1867. In early 1868 the new police appeared on the streets of both cities. In

December the new taxation and administration laws were promulgated and were supposed to be enforced at the start of the New Year. However, a movement of the commercial elite of Oporto refused to accept the new laws. The Janeirinha, so called because the movement started on 1st January, resulted in the fall of the government.

Almost all the controversial laws (taxes, administrative code, etc.) were abandoned by the new government, including the Guarda Civil project. However, Policia Civil was maintained, probably because it was already organised.104

2.2. Between the urban and the rural, the civil and the military: discussing police institutions and the new policeman.

Following this summary of political events culminating in the creation of Policia Civil in Lisbon and Oporto and the abandonment of the Guarda Civil project, this chapter now addresses the key aspects that were at stake in the various proposals about police reform over these years. Drawing now more intensively on evidence collected in the

Ministry of Interior archive, it aims to emphasise the fact that debates on police reform were not limited to the parliament and newspapers but occupied a central position within the state machinery; this is probably where the daily administrative tasks evidenced the weaknesses of the existing policing arrangements more than anywhere

104 On the Janeirinha movement and political athmosphere in 1867 see Carlos Guimaraes da Cunha A “Janeirinha” e o Partido Reformista: Da Revolugdo de Janeiro de 1868 ao Pacto da Granja (Lisbon: Colibri, 2003).

58 else. In January 1865, for example, Administradores de Bairro (neighbourhood

administrators) of Oporto, an administrative post appointed by the central government

and directed by the civil governor, sent the Civil Governor a proposal to create a ‘force

of public safety’; this was in light of the upcoming International Exhibition as well as

their anger at criticism from the ‘public opinion’ which they claimed only existed

‘because [the newspapers and public opinion] did not even imagine that ‘police’ [in

Oporto] is not more than just a word’. The civil governor subsequently forwarded the proposal to the Interior Minister. In the accompanying report, they lengthily described and discussed the causes of the inadequate conditions of the city’s police. A few months later, in October 1865, the civil governor of Lisbon presented the Ministry a plan for the creation of a ‘civil police force’. At this moment, the ministry’s internal services produced a long (by the standards of the time) report with the history of police reform since December 1861.105 Indeed, the analysis of the problem and proposals for its resolution took place predominantly within the state and clearly reveal the contours of the ongoing debates. Discussions were initially focused largely on the nature of police institutions and of the men assigned to policing tasks.

A first and central issue in dispute was the use of the military in police functions.106 The military character of the Guarda Municipal in Lisbon and Oporto was criticised because, in the opinion of the neighbourhood administrators of Oporto, these forces ‘do not require from the soldiers the obligation to enforce police transgressions’ and municipal bylaws.107 Oporto and Lisbon public authorities targeted the practices of the soldiers from the Guarda, namely reacting only to disorder and not getting involved in the small problems of urban everyday life. The subject was also discussed in the

105IAN/TT-MR, M?3035, L°15, N°1761. 106 In February 1867, the official size of the Lisbon Municipal Guard was 1169 soldiers, but in fact there were 1094 operating. IAN/TT-MR, M$.3037,L°16, N°42. 107 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.3027, L°15, without number.

59 pages of the Portuguese army’s official publication. Rejecting the arguments of the civilian critics, the army argued that Guarda Municipal was an ‘extremely strong anchor of authority’. And in response to the proposal to set up civilian police forces in

Lisbon and Oporto in December 1861, it was stated that despite the "influx of freedom" in recent decades, the Portuguese were not yet prepared for the civilisational progress represented by the ‘English policeman’.108 This type of civil authority represented by the new police would, the military assured, not be respected by the population and thus jeopardise the public peace. The argument was not new; it had indeed been central to the militarisation of the Guarda Municipal in the 1830s. Recognising to some extent the validity of the army’s position, both the government’s police proposals of 1863 and

1867 were clear: a military police force would always remain in the two cities, either with the Guarda Municipal or with the new national gendarmeries.

Another component of the debate on the military as police was its use in rural policing tasks. However the contours here were different: it was not a question of whether or not to use the military in police functions but rather how to use them. Paying civilian policemen was more expensive than paying ordinary soldiers, and while the cost of civil police was judged worth the effort in the main cities - indeed it was considered that the complexity and heterogeneity of urban life and society made them necessary - the use of the military was a consensual solution for the rest of the territory.

Instead, the debates were on how the military rural police service was to be put in operation. Over the years the regular army had been distributed across the territory in detachments of variable sizes. However, the available forces were not distributed in a rational fashion but were routinely placed on an ad-hoc basis, depending on factors such

m Revista Militar, Tomo XIV, n°l, 15-01-1862, pp. 11-16 and N°2, 31-01-1862, pp.41-46. In English in the original.

60 as the existence of public order threats or the pressures of local notables.109 The criticisms of this somewhat chaotic system grew over the years. In 1862, when the army budget was being discussed in the parliament, Martens Ferrao criticised the police function of the army, which he stated had resulted in a situation where there was ‘no police or army, and safety is not a reality’.110 It was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, the instituted system was creating discipline problems in the army as the spread of small detachments through the country was causing control issues in the military hierarchy. On the other hand, and as a consequence of this way of organising rural policing, the ordinary soldiers who comprised these detachments were unable to achieve the desired police effectiveness which was also causing widespread public criticism.

The creation of a gendarmerie - which was military by nature and therefore was an independent body formed by an elite of soldiers - was then the answer to this double problem: it would free the regular army of the burden of policing and the problems this caused in military discipline, and it would also increase the effectiveness in policing.

A significant part of the Portuguese police system in this period still fell on part- time policemen: regedores and cabos de policia. These were men chosen at the parish level to serve for one or two years and put in charge of every kind of administrative and police tasks, from guarding the municipal and provincial treasury to escorting prisoners on their way to central prisons or courts in the next parish. The need to reform the existing police structures also grew increasingly from criticisms of this type of police agents. The number of cabos de policia, which is a good indicator of the real extent of this form of policing, fluctuated between twenty and thirty thousand for the whole country. However, as noted by Catroga, not only was the appointment of these officers not a homogeneous process in time and space, but they could not be considered

109 Cerezales, ‘Estado, Regimen’, p.64. 110 DCD, 14-06-1862, p. 1644.

61

‘employees’ in the modem and bureaucratic sense of the term.111 A random, impressionistic look through the daily press of the time is enough to appreciate that regedores and cabos de policia did in fact perform numerous police tasks: they may have been almost unanimously criticised but they were on the ground performing police functions. As shown by Moutinho Santos in a study about a parish in Oporto, the action of the cabos went beyond mere intervention in elections as was popularly perceived. 112.

Across the country, these men were forced to patrol the streets, police fairs and markets, act as prison guards and the transport convicts. According to the neighbourhood administrators in Oporto, regedores and cabos had in theory a ‘multitude of tasks’ to enforce: however by ‘calling those to policing who constantly need to work during the day to be able to eat at night, one cannot expect the suppression of crime’.113 Also according to Oporto authorities, these were not very popular posts; regedores and cabos only accepted this as a sign of ‘mere obedience’ without ‘showing any zeal for public affairs’ and sometimes they ‘witness a disorder with indifference’. However, ‘we still owe them valuable services, and without their assistance the Guarda Municipal would serve of little purpose’.114 In general, though, central government did not tmst individuals over whom its control was, to say the least, doubtful.

Although rural policing had been integrated in this police reform movement, it was the police of Lisbon, the political capital, which was always the trigger for reform.

And the discussion was significantly focused on the individual figure of the policeman as a result of the criticism of military and part-time police agents. In 1867, the parliamentary committee in charge of revising the Policia Civil law proposal drew an

111 Fernando Catroga ‘O poder paroquial como “policia” no seculo XIX portugues’ in Tiago P. Marques & Pedro T. Almeida (Eds) Lei e Ordem: Justiga Penal, Criminalidade e Policia seculos XIX e XX, (Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 2006), pp. 105-130. 112 Maria Jose Moutinho Santos ‘Bonfim - sec. XIX: a regedoria na seguranga urbana’ inCadernos do Bonfim, 2001, vol.l, pp.1-25. 113 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.3005, L°13, N°1234. 114 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.3027, Without N°.

62 ideal profile of what they wanted the new policeman to be in their final report: ‘police officers must be individuals who, by their morality, honesty and prudence call upon them the sympathies of the public’.115 The civil governor of Lisbon had used similar wording two years earlier, stressing that the police of a capital city should be made up of agents with ‘the necessary sagacity and politeness, [essential qualities] in this type of service’.116 When discussing the Policia Civil project in parliament, Dias Ferreira, one of the main opposition figures of the, joked about this: ‘They are always the nicest creatures, these ‘guards’ or ‘police officers’! (laughs) (...) [The bill] is so tight in these

[recruitment] conditions that to be a policeman requires more conditions than to be 117 admitted to holy orders’. The minister, Martens Ferrao, replied with the example of

1 1 o foreign countries: these were the requirements all across Europe. Meeting all these conditions proved more complex in practice than a simple legal statement, particularly the ability to read and write.119 But it is important to note that what was in question was a redrawing of the ideal of the policeman, and even though this no real effect at the time, it would have substantial results in the long term and effectively change the individual figure of the policeman.

This idealisation of the figure of the policeman allows us to identify a central aspect of the police modernisation process: a policeman that stands apart from both the soldier and the part-time agent to converge with the status of the civil servant. The emphasis on the connection between moral elevation of the policeman and the

115 DCD, 22-06-1867, p.2125. 116 IAN/TT-MR, Mq.3035, L°15, N°1761. 117 DCD, 22-06-1867, pp.2127-2128. The conditions to be admitted in the police were: strength and “good looks”, between 22 and 40 years old, able to write, read and count, known good behavior, had served in the army and sign a 5 year contract. 118 The reality however showed more diversity than Martens Ferrao’s discourse implied, see Clive Emsley ‘The Policeman as Worker: a comparative survey c.1800 - 1940’, International Review of Social History, 2000, vol. 45(1), pp.89-110 (pp.92-96). 119 Maria Jose Moutinho Santos ‘A introdufao da policia civil em Portugal: entre projectos e realidades, os equivocos de uma politica de seguranga’ in Tiago Marques e Pedro T. Almeida (Eds)Lei e Ordem. Justiga Penal, Criminalidade e Policia. Seculos XIX - XX (Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 2006), pp.131-145.

63 importance of the relations established with the public shows that Portuguese politicians were aware that the relationship between authority and citizens, between the police and the policed, in a liberal society was not just one-way but one of mutual trust. The insistence on the policeman’s self-control, i.e. they would make a more restrained use of force but also that they would be more easily managed, testifies to the politicians’ concern with the concrete means by which power was exercised. Politicians recognised that the legitimacy of police authority was not only based on the law, was not just a power granted by law, but it was also a process of legitimacy arising from the interactions established between law enforcement authorities and the population.120 The policemen should boast a broader moral prestige that would legitimate their actions and decisions in the eyes of the population. However, these new policemen did not act alone; it was in fact the institutional and the bureaucratically organised framework that would ensure that they effectively acted as expected.

Hence it was the institutional and organisational framework that would allow the emergence of the new policeman. Both in the case of Policia Civil and the Guarda

Civil, the ‘unity of action’121 was a central argument and part of a more general process of ‘unitary fixation of the state purposes’ 199 that characterises a modem administrative structure. In this respect, the case of police reform encompasses two linked but distinct questions. On the one hand, there was the process of political centralisation; the transformation of the police aimed to provide the centre of power with greater control of policing and the new institutional ideal types - civilian police forces in the cities, gendarmerie in the countryside - corresponded to that objective. On the other hand,

120 A similar type of discourse was used in Italy with the new figure of the policeman being devised in strong opposition with the despotic sbirri see Simona Mori ‘Becoming a policemen in nineteenth-century Italy: police gender culture through the lens of Professional manuals’ in David Barrie & Susan Broomhall (Eds) A History of Police and Masculinities 1700-2010 (London: Routledge, 2012), pp.102-122 (pp. 104- 106). 121 Portaria Ministerio Reino, 07-09-1863; DCD, 22-06-1867, p.2125. 122 Antonio Manuel Hespanha Guiando a mao invisivel: direitos, Estado e Lei no Liberalismo Monarquico Portugues (Coimbra: Almedina, 2004), p.288. 64 there was the development of an idea of ‘organisational body’, an organisation whose internal relationships should be formalised in bureaucratic lines so as to achieve the desired levels of efficiency. The search for a new paradigm of the policeman was in fact part of the search for new types of police institution / organisation in which political control and operational control were essential. In the larger rationalisation process of the state administrative machinery undertaken in the nineteenth century, the period under study here was a pivotal moment for the integration of the Portuguese police and policing in the bureaucratic model.

Although they did not respond directly to the interior minister, Policia Civil would be directly controlled by the civil governors who were under the effective control of the government. Organisationally, the official regulations of the new police forces provided a fairly detailed definition of the functions and position in the hierarchy of all police employees. Every member within the organisation was assigned a clearly defined set of duties and obligations. Thus, police commissioners (the top of the organisation), police station chiefs (the connection between the top and everyday operations), sergeants {cabos) (the policemen of the policemen) and the police guards (the police on the street) should all know in advance what to do and, very importantly, what not to do.

In fact, while a hierarchical organisation is clearly discernible, the interdependence between the various elements was a central aspect of the new Lisbon and Oporto police forces, thus introducing a bottom-up dynamics.

2.3. Defining the ‘public safety’ sphere of action

Part of the police reform movement focused on the institutional and organisational boundaries of the new police forces, but identifying the causes of insecurity which

65 would in turn be the issues subject to police intervention was another side of the question. Thus, some governmental and public discussions revolved around defining police functions. In the case of the urban civil police, the report of the parliamentary commission that studied the proposal in 1867 declared that the new civil police had multiple functions: ‘helping the administration, assisting the criminal justice system, and because it would be inconvenient to have a separate municipal police’ this function would also be a responsibility of the new police, ‘the sphere of its duties is very wide’. 193 The approved official regulations were quite explicit in the determination of police functions. Policemen were responsible for guarding public space, regulating traffic, theatres, meetings and other public entertainment, gambling houses and inns, controlling begging and prostitution, weights and measures and all the provisions of municipal bylaws, overseeing the licenses of foreigners and gun possession.124 This classification of police duties is the formal outcome of the governmental exercise of defining ‘public safety’, a sphere that constituted the core of the police role. Different categories and spheres of state intervention were converged with this. The following section will show how five different but interconnected dimensions of what was conceptualised as ‘police functions’ influenced police reform during this period: public order, criminal justice, the state’s administrative power, municipal police and the conception of police as a public service. All were areas that underwent significant changes during this period, changes that shed light on how the police reform question emerged and took shape.

Public Order. To understand the scope of ‘public safety’, it is helpful to begin by distinguishing it from ‘public order’. Even though these were and are contingent

123 DCD, 22-06-1867, p.2125. 124 Law 02-06-1867, art. 12° e Regulation 14-12-1867, art. 18°, 54° e 55°.

66 categories, they also contain their own specificities. Hence it is possible to draw a line between public order, i.e. the threat of and/or concrete public disorder, and public safety namely the preservation of daily physical integrity and property. According to Diego

Palacios Cerezales, the problem of public order began to change in Portugal in the late

1850s and 1860s. Situations ranging from traditional food riots, experienced in Lisbon as late as 1856, to politicised protest movements such as the Christmas Riots reveal the emergence of new contours in the public order problem which could increasingly be politically costly to the government.125 The problem of public order acquired a new prominence in national political life. However, it should be noted that while the Guarda

Civil was a direct response to the tense climate that prevailed in the country, this was not so much the case with the Policia Civil. Virtually unarmed, the new urban policemen would hardly be seen as a plausible answer to problems of public order.

Policia Civil would have a specific role in public (dis)order situations. Portuguese politicians believed that the mere presence of the Policia Civil in the locale and their ability to negotiate constitute a deterrent to public order threats. But they were not seen as an effective response to the public order problem. The permanence in Lisbon and

Oporto of a military police force, either the new Guarda Civil or, as it turned out, the

Guarda Municipal, would in fact ensure an effective response to problems of public order. The Policia Civil was attributed a role in public disorder situations but the proposal for its creation was not a response to this but rather to problems and changes in the next four categories.

Criminal Justice. During the 1860s, the way the state defined and acted upon crime was one of the reasons for reforming the police system. Unlike other European countries, the

125 For a comprehensive analysis of this subject see Cerezales, ‘Estado, Regimen’. 67 Portuguese case does not show a perception of increasing crime rates. In fact, quite the

opposite: the dominant view was that crime rates were lower in Portugal than in the rest

of Europe and had been in decline since the 1840s after the turmoil of the civil war

during the 1830s. The few available statistics for the period, viewed by contemporaries

with much suspicion as to their veracity, indicate a general reduction of the number of

crimes and a typical transformation of the pattern of crime with a decrease in physical

aggression and rise in verbal violence and property crimes. Although Portuguese crime

statistics revealed an approximation to the pattern of crime detected by authorities in

more the more developed European countries, Portugal contrasted with the rest of

Europe in terms of the overall crime rate: whereas crime rose in Europe in this period, it

I rss- was declining in Portugal. The slow urbanisation process witnessed in Portugal until the 1870s is certainly at the root of this contrast. As with the case of public order, the new urban police forces would act more as a deterrent, preventing criminal activities and reducing the sense of impunity, than acting in straightforward crime repression.

Above all, the transformation of the police system expressed a political project of more certain state intervention and control over criminality. Portuguese politicians were in line here with a common transformation in European penal policies: greater humanity and the belief in the regeneration of the criminal shown by the grading of penalties meant there had to be more certain assurance that the criminals were actually brought to justice.127 And in fact the period under study here was crucial in the building of a modem criminal justice system in Portugal.

The first modem penal code was only approved in 1852 but it was immediately acknowledged that it needed to be reformed. Hence a process of criminal law reform

126 Maria Joao VazCrime e Sociedade: Portugal na segunda metade do seculo XIX (Oeiras: Celta, 1998), pp.132-138. 127 Clive Emsley Crime, Police, & Penal Policy: European Experiences 1750-1940 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), pp.160-178.

68 was set in motion from the mid-1850s.128 This was concluded on July 1, 1867, one day before the creation of the Policia Civil, with the promulgation of the "Sentencing and

Prison Reform Act"; among other decisions, this officially adopted the modern penitentiary system and instituted the much-celebrated abolition of the death penalty - a true indicator of liberalism for the Portuguese political elite. But care needs to be taken when placing police reform in the context of the criminal justice system reform.

Although the reform of the police was naturally integrated into this movement, in fact the parliamentary debates on these two issues rarely crossed. In contrast with politicians in other European countries - in England for example the creation of the Metropolitan

Police by Robert Peel was part of the rationalisation of the whole of the criminal justice system - in Portugal politicians involved in the debates on criminal law reform or the penitentiary system were rarely, if ever, involved in the debates on police reform.129

While police reform emerged largely from the practical experience of inefficiency and to respond to new levels of expected efficiency, penal reform was anchored in the emergence of specialised criminological knowledge (which would later be known as criminology) and this hardly touched police debates. Also in terms of law reform, the

Civil Code was approved in early July 1867, completing a project intended to establish the hegemony of the state in the regulation of social relations with the enactment of the

Napoleonic-inspired codes. But besides the written laws, it was felt practical structures needed to be developed that would effectively put this regulatory power into practice, the subject of the next point.

128 Maria Jose Moutinho SantosA Sombra e a Luz: As prisdes do liberalismo (Oporto: Afrontamento, 1999), pp.55-63; Tiago Pires Marques Crime e Castigo No Liberalismo em Portugal (Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 2005), pp.56-73. 129 Emsley, Policing and its context, pp.59-61; Emsley, Crime, Police, & Penal Policy, pp. 107-110.

69 The administrative power of the state. It was by adapting the French model of the prefets that the Portuguese state machine developed a significant part of its administrative practices after the establishment of the Liberal regime in 1834. The

1840s witnessed an increase in the functions of the civil governors that covered virtually all areas of state intervention. At the beginning of the Regeneration, in the 1850s, police functions became a dominant area of the civil government’s competences.130 Issues such as vagrancy, the control of public entertainment, carnival practices, vendors’ cries and street musicians, gambling and closing hours were subject to increasingly detailed regulations emanated from Governos Civis. But as these functions became increasingly specialised, so did the civil governors' complaints about the lack of operational capacity to meet the myriad police functions for which they were responsible. In Lisbon, from the mid-1850s, the Civil Government began to form what was known in the press in the early 1860s as ‘the police of the civil government’. Without any official act instituting it, this force was composed of eighteen members in 1865 and was later integrated in the

i ai Policia Civil The money to pay these agents came from the amount registered in the

State Budget under the heading ‘Preventive Police’ which probably served primarily to pay political informants but also to finance criminal investigation. Somehow, the infrastructural state police power began growing from micro developments like this.132

One of the growing concerns of the Lisbon Civil Government was the moralisation of public space. Prostitution, in particular, is a paradigmatic example of the rise of police control exercised by Governo Civil. From the 1840s, the voices in favour

130 Jose Tengarrinha (Ed)Histdria do Governo Civil de Lisboa (Lisbon: Governo Civil Lisboa, 2002) vol. I pp. 143-162. 131IAN/TT-MR, Mg.3035, L°15, N°1761. 132 Similarly, for the case of London, historians have been showing that the ‘old police’ was not as inefficient as publicly represented and in fact developments within its sphere were pivotal for the later reform movement, see J. M. Beattie The First English Detectives: The Bow Street Runners and the Policing of London, 1750-1840 (Oxford: OUP, 2012); Elaine ReynoldsBefore the Bobbies: The Night Watch and Police Reform in Metropolitan London, 1720-1830 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1998).

70 of regulating prostitution through a system of tolerance were regularly heard in books on the subject or in the press.133 Public prostitution - legalisation of prostitution by introducing the registration of prostitutes, medical inspections and police surveillance - was seen as ‘a necessary disorder’.134 In Lisbon, however, it was only from 1858 onwards that authorities began to produce regulations and mobilise resources to allow an effective implementation of the legislation. In 1862, discussions inside the Ministry of Interior considered the resources devoted to the control of prostitution clearly insufficient. Then, already in the context of proposals for police reform, the civil governor reformulated the system of prostitution control. First, in early 1865, reprinting the Regulamento of 1858 and just a few months later promulgating a new one that was more detailed and could adapt to the new police that was by then been planned in the

i oc ministry. After decades of discussion, the system of prostitution tolerance became a reality in the 1860s. The example of prostitution given here most notably linked regulations reform to institutional and enforcement power reform, but in general the action of the civil government of Lisbon was one of adaption to a new operational reality. Moreover, there was another public authority where a very similar process was also occurring, Lisbon’s municipality.

Municipal Police. The division of power between central and local state, i.e. between the Governo Civil and Lisbon municipality, was always very blurred. Thus if some police powers were emerging in the sphere of central state, others remained under the city’s municipality for no reason other than tradition. In this respect the 1860s marked

133 For example, Francisco Ignacio dos Santos CruzDa Prostituigao na Cidade de Lisboa, (Lisbon: Typ. Lisbonense, 1841); Francisco Pereira de Azevedo Histdria da Prostituigao e Policia Sanitaria no Porto, (Porto: F. Gomes da Fonseca, 1864). 134 Relatorio sobre a prostituigao publica no ano de 1862, IAN/TT-MR, Mg.4538-A. 135 Regulamento policial das meretrizes e casas de toleradas da cidade de Lisboa em 30 de Julho de 1858, (Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional, 1865); Regulamento policial das meretrizes e casas de toleradas da cidade de Lisboa em 1 de Dezembro de 1865, (Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional, 1865).

71 the beginning of an intense process of construction and reform of Lisbon’s urban

1 o r space. But the state’s attention was not only concentrated on the control of the built environment; there was another set of concerns around urban modes of living and everyday life habits.137 Although the category of municipal police also referred in

Lisbon to areas of public health control, it was in the vigilance of behaviour in public space that attentions converged. The street was a space that began to change around this time and would be radically transformed during the following decades. Firstly, the emerging middle classes were more willing to use public spaces as places for socialisation. The formation of the liberal public sphere also included a new emphasis on social practices in public spaces. Going out, strolling on the promenade, frequenting cafes and theatres, seeing and being seen were central elements of te social affirmation of the middle classes. For that to happen, however, it was necessary to do so with safety, especially because many of these activities happened at night, which was considered particularly dangerous. On another level, the concept of the street emerges as a space of movement and mobility; this was the function of the street in a rationally organised, capitalist society which aimed at economic development. Finally, the streets remained a place where the working classes lived, worked, stole, begged, and were seeing their traditional position in the public space increasingly threatened.

In Portugal, the role of public authorities in managing this place of conflict was first taken by local authorities. It was at the end of the 1840s that the municipal services in Lisbon integrated a section of ‘municipal police and bylaws’. This section was

136 For a perspective that identifies the beginning of this movement of reform in the second half of the eighteenth century see Maria Alexandre Lousada ‘Una Nuova Grammatica Per Lo Spazio Urbano: La Polizia E la Citta A Lisbonna, 1760 - 1833’, Storia Urbana, 2005, vol. 108, pp.67-85. Other authors have placed the beginning of this process only in the second half of nineteenth century, see Alvaro Ferreira da Silva ‘Modos de Regulaipao da Cidade: a Mao Visivel na Expansao Urbana’ Penelope, in 1994, vol. 14, pp.121-146. 137 Peter C. Baldwin Domesticating the street: The Reform of public space in Hanford, 1850-1930 (Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1999); Andy Croll Civilizing the urban: popular culture and public space in Merthyr, 1870-1914 (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2000).

72 directed by a zelador, an office created from the extinction of the medieval almotaces.

Initially there was only one zelador but over the years the number increased gradually and a ‘body of municipal zeladores’ started to be referred to in municipal bureaucracy and the press. In October 1865 this body had 44 members.138 The zeladores were in charge of bylaw enforcement which covered all aspects of city administration. Both zeladores and bylaws would be directed more specifically to the control of public spaces throughout the 1860s. The ‘service assignment’ ( escalas de servigo) published in the municipality official journal ( Archivo Municipal ) demonstrates how these men were assigned to the main squares and thoroughfares of the city. In the early 1860s, Lisbon did not have a bylaws code unlike many other municipalities in the country. Hence one of the priorities of city authorities was the creation of a legal document to assemble and summarise all municipal bylaws. For practical purposes, the chief zelador was in charge 1 3Q of this process, and referred to as the ‘author’ of the code which, despite being prepared since the early 1860s, was only approved in 1869.140 This code marked a rupture with the bylaw codes that existed in the country at that time. While other codes had a classical structure, regulating subjects such as ‘morality’, ‘cleanliness’,

‘wastelands’, Lisbon’s new bylaw code focused mainly on the control of the streets and of the forms of circulation. Of the fourteen chapters in the code, seven (the first) were devoted to the organisation and regulation of practices in public space.

The centralisation of the municipal police in the Policia Civil was in the context of police reform seen by central and local authorities as a natural step. Contrary to what was happening in other areas of municipal administration, where the entire decade was marked by constant conflicts between central and local authorities, the incorporation of

138 IAN/TT-MR, Ms.3035, L°15, N°1761. 139 Archivo Municipal de Lisboa (Official Journal of Lisbon’s Municpality) [AML], N°408, 26-10-1867, p.3297. 140 Codigo de Posturas da Camara Municipal de Lisboa, (Lisbon: Typographia Jomal do Comercio, 1869). 73 the body of zeladores in the new urban civil police was peaceful; most zeladores were

in fact integrated in Policia Civil in 1868. After the 1863 proposal for a civil police

force in Lisbon, the government issued an ordinance (portaria) warning the

municipality of the changes being prepared in the organisation of city’s policing. The

municipality immediately agreed, noting that it would remain with the power to enact

bylaws. The relationship between the municipality and central state was indeed in this regard one of close collaboration. For example, during the visit of Queen Isabella II of

Spain in December 1866, the body of zeladores policed the city under the command of the Civil Governor. While it is true that the nineteenth century was marked by the transfer of police powers from local to central powers, this was not an intrinsically contentious process. 141

Police as a public service. Another category present in the definition of the areas of police functions was that the police provide a set of services to the people. This dimension included safety in the strict sense of preservation of property and individual physical integrity, but also a component of police functions identified as ‘aid business’.142 It is this second aspect that is intended to be explored here, in order to perceive how the police would appear, for example, to the working class not only in the form of punishment and control but also as an mechanism from which they could call for help in case of urgent need.

A case that can help us elucidate this aspect of public safety tormented all Civil

Governors of Lisbon from at least the late 1850s: the transport of the sick and injured to hospital. As they did not seem very concerned with the enforcement of city bylaws, the men from Guarda Municipal were not very keen on using the stretchers in their stations

141 Emsley, A Typology, p.41. 142 Emsley, Policing and its Context, p.4; See also Eric Monkkonen Police in Urban America 1860-1920 (Cambridge: CUP, 2004 [1981]), p.55.

74 for this purpose. Instead, they preferred to force the city's water carriers, mostly from the Spanish province of Galicia, to do so. As a result, over the decade the Spanish embassy made frequent complaints about acts of violence by Municipal Guards.143 In

August 1860, the number of patients arriving in Lisbon by the still recent railway

(inaugurated in 1856) to the main hospital of the city, Hospital S. Jose grew from day to day. Tired of the conflicts that occurred almost daily between water carriers, Municipal

Guards and Cabos, and to ‘prevent those who witness it blaming the authorities for not providing’ this service, the regedor of a nearby parish complained to the neighbourhood administrator.144 Over the next year, the Interior Minister and the Civil Governor discussed the issue with a regular exchange of correspondence. In June 1861, Sa

Nogueira, very active in the parliament discussions about police, but here as Civil

Governor of Lisbon, drew up a regulation which assigned this service to the Holy House of Mercy, a charity institution. However, this institution dropped the responsibility for this service very quickly, stating that it was a task for the administrative authority.145

Nothing was done and the conflicts persisted two years later in 1863. To solve the problem as attempt was made to have the Confraternities, another type of charity association, to fund the service but without much success. The arrival of the Policia

Civil arrived in 1867 constituted a direct response to this problem. The invoice (guia de transporte) for transporting injured people was one of the first printed papers with the heading "Policia Civil de Lisboa".

Despite still being seen as charitable services, the notion that the state was responsible for providing some welfare to the population through the police earned more precise, practical and socially inclusive contours. Closing the doors of the stairs after midnight or calling midwives, for example, would be legal functions of the

143 For example in 1863, IAN/TT-MR, Mq.3022, L°14, N°737. 144 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.2981, L°12, N°701-753. 145 IAN/TT-MR, M?.2981, L°12, N°701-753.

75 policemen in the future. And in fact, the notion of public service was broadened and was influencing the transformation of the entire city government, with a ‘more demanding public’ claiming ‘facilities for which it pays’ such as lighting, markets, public baths or the police.146

Public order, criminal justice, the administrative power of the state, municipal police or the notion of public service were all more or less independent spheres of action from each other, but converged into the shaping of the duties and intentions of the new police. But although they characterise what the new police was supposed to do; they do not define how the police was suppose to perform this, another aspect of the police reform process to which this chapter now turns.

2.4. Rationales of policing: prevention and emergency.

The reform of the police was not only an organisational and institutional transformation aimed at achieving certain ends, but also reflected new strategies of state action over society; new modes of action by the agents of authority. If the new institutions were to achieve their purposes, they needed to adopt new rationales.

As already noted, the parliamentary discussion about the Christmas Riots was an initial moment in the introduction of police reform on the political agenda. The discussion was also marked by a lively debate on the concept of police prevention in a liberal society. Fontes Pereira de Melo, former and future prime minister, then on the opposition benches, criticised the government for not having taken preventive measures and which resulted in their having to resort to the use of force after the events had begun. According to Fontes, the main purpose should be prevention rather than

146 AML, n°214, 06-02-1864, p.1712.

76 suppression; that was the correct ‘art of government’.147 Aires Gouveia, on the government side, responded to Fontes’ ‘theory of prevention’ inquiring, ‘where would this principle, this theory of prevention, already rejected by everyone, take us if not to the lack of freedom?’148 The discussion continued in the following days between those who advocated preventive policing and those who regarded it as an unacceptable attack on freedom. Finally, Morais de Carvalho, Minister of Justice, ended the dispute by making a distinction between oppressive prevention, typical of the Old Regime, and a new prevention that constituted a guarantee of public safety: ‘if [prevention] is an administrative police that cares for public safety, the maintenance of individual rights and property of citizens, stopping its action exactly where it begins the attack on the freedoms of the citizens, that police I want for my country’.149 Despite some recurrent minor political quarrels this notion was consensual among Portuguese politicians.

Prevention became a prominent political issue in Portugal in the 1860s through discussions on maintaining public order, but it was in relation to crime that it gained visibility throughout Europe. From the early nineteenth century the term preventive police entered the vocabulary of the European police institution reformers. The concept began to circulate more timidly in juridical circles in Portugal around that time.150 Later in the century, the new penal regime that emerged with the Liberal regime was essentially a ‘preventive penalty’.151 And even in the maintenance of public order, prevention rationale was increasingly present in the practices of military authorities.152

The idea of 'preventive police' emerged in Portugal in a more concrete form with the new political elite of the liberal regime and had in the Regeneration period the ideal

147 DCD, 21-01-1862, p.254. 148 DCD, 23-01-1862, p.252. 149 DCD, 31-01-1862, p.351. 150 Vaz, Crime e Sociedade, p.33. 151 Marques, Crime e Castigo, p.36. 152 Cerezales, ‘O Principio’, pp.43-46.

77 ground to be consolidated. Prevention meant the increased presence and visibility of policing, which was believed to serve as a deterrent. This rationale cannot be circumscribed only to crime and public order however. The prevention rationale was in all areas of police intervention and even state action in general. Prevention was an ever present rationale in the sanitary inspection of prostitutes or in the greater surveillance of public space in order to prevent traffic accidents. And while the field of public order and crime prevention focused on specific groups - demonstrators and criminals - in its broadest sense a preventive surveillance was extended to a wider social spectrum: a policed society. Only the belief that the authorities were present, preventing, would give the middle classes a real sense of security. This increased surveillance could, however, only be carried out by the new policeman discussed above.

If a first rationale was to prevent the occurrence of acts that threatened public safety, a second resulting from the first was that the police force had to be ready to act as quickly as possible if such acts occurred. In social sciences, the concept of emergency is not new as a rationale of police action. Since the 1960s, sociologists and anthropologists, working on policing practices, have acknowledged that a central dimension of police work is based not so much on what the law prescribes, but on a readiness for action that leads them to act on a wide range of events. Egon Bittner argued that the role of police can be explained as acting on ‘something-ought-not-to-be- happening-and-about-which-something-ought-to-be-done-NOW’.153 According to this author, there are two dimensions of emergency in policing. One consists of temporally longer processes, i.e. events that trigger a police response but that is understood by police and other state officials as an interim solution. This can be sees, for example, in some assistance functions. Another dimension is the ‘rapid reaction’ rationale to

153 Egon Bittner & Robert Bish, The functions of the police in modem society (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1975), p.30.

78 problems such as a medical emergency or fire danger warning. Unlike prevention, emergency is a dimension that historians have not given due importance. When mentioned, the subject is usually addressed as follows: on the street, prepared to prevent crime, policemen end up acting on many other issues related to everyday life. Thus, even when this dimension is considered, it is pictured as a result of the policing context, as a collateral effect, and not as part of the political police modernisation project. The reform of the police in Portugal during these years demonstrates, however, that this was an aspect explicitly considered in the political project.

The expression ‘one police for every time and every moment’, used by the parliamentary committee to characterise the Policia Civil, thus reflects the relationship between an openly inaccurate sphere of competences and a rationale of emergency. For example, in the law of July 2 1867 this dimension ended up in the role assigned to the police commissioners; one of their tasks was ‘to be immediately present at all extraordinary police cases’, and there is no definition of what these extraordinary cases could be.154 What can be seen here is a discursive substantiation of a change in the idea of police practice, from reactive to proactive; a change that went through the whole modernisation process of the police system.

Conclusion

Between December 1861 and January 1868 three projects proposing the creation of urban civil police forces and one to create a national gendarmerie police force were presented by the Portuguese government to parliament. These projects reflected a multiplicity of debates in the parliament, within the state machinery and among the

154 Law 02-07-1867, art.l2°, l l a. My emphasis.

79 general public as seen for instance in the daily press. The issue of police reform was not new in 1861. On the contrary, it appeared regularly in political debate after the rise of the liberal regime in 1834. However, events like the Christmas Riots in 1861, the threatened public order in 1862 throughout the whole country or the International

Exhibition in Oporto in 1865 put the reform of the police system constantly on the political agenda. Nevertheless, the problem was not only linked with the dynamics of more immediate events; deep changes were being discussed.

The debates and changes in this period in the Portuguese police system decisively marked the emergence of a modem concept of police in the country: professional bodies subject to the principle of legality. The only practical result proved to be the Policia Civil. While the need for a rural police resided mainly in circumstantial problems of public order, the urgency lessened as the problem faded or mitigated after the tumultuous 1860s. It was only in 1910, in the wake of the Republican Revolution, that a national gendarmerie police force - Guarda Nacional Republicana - was created.

In contrast, urban police had a daily public visibility that highlighted the indispensability of change. The transformation of the police proved to be a continuum between institutional and organisational change and a concept of public safety that focused on the entire urban everyday life. In this period, however, Lisbon did not have the growth rates recorded in other European cities; therefore, there was not the pressure from industrialisation and urbanisation leading to police reform that characterised other cases. This was a change driven primarily by a cultural transformation of the ideal of state and urban life advocated by the middle class in the majority in the political elite.

In the spread of uniformed police in U.S. cities during the nineteenth century,

Eric Monkkonen has argued that ‘[t]he new police did represent an important and dramatic change in the nature of urban life, but their introduction and dispersion

80 throughout the country was not a function of elite demands for class control, changing urban riots, or rising crime. Its speed and pace determined by a contagious diffusion process...’ concluding later, ‘If each city had adopted a uniformed force only after a riot, changing crime rate, or the need for a new kind of class-control agency, many places would not today have a uniformed police force’.155 In this chapter it was argued that a similar process happened in Europe, exemplified here in the case of Lisbon and

Portugal.

When the men from the newly created Policia Civil started patrolling the streets of Lisbon and Oporto in January 1868, these cities did not start being policed by the ideal new policeman in perfectly operating hierarchic and bureaucratic organisations. In fact, some of these men were the same that had already policed these cities. The next chapter will begin to address the organisational shaping of the institution now created by examining one basic unit of its organisation: the police station.

155 Monkkonen, Police in Urban America, p.55, 57.

81 3. Nodes in a ‘bureaucratic landscape’: The historical

development of the Esquadra de Policia.

This chapter aims to examine the historical development of ‘police stations’ and their significance to the development of police working routines and organisational culture.

This discussion will continue over the next two chapters, focusing on the ways police organisation was produced and reproduced; this chapter strives to disclose the importance of police stations to the everyday functioning of Policia Civil and the ways they were intentionally or unintentionally used by the population in its everyday life.

The chapter begins by comparing the new Policia Civil stations with those of the old

Guarda Municipal and how they reflected different strategies of organising police and policing. It proceeds to examine the arrangement ofPolicia Civil force throughout the city’s space and the measures and rationale behind this territorialisation process.

Finally, the chapter analyses the emergence of the station as a place: a bureaucratic locale of police governance and its involvement with neighbourhood routines.156 The conclusion of the chapter will underscore the centrality of the station as an anchor in the structure of the entire organisation and how the population interacted with the police, thus emerging and developing as recognisably distinct places.

From the perspective of their historical development, police stations have been somewhat paradoxically treated as an ever present but always ignored part of the police.

In a small but incisive piece, Eugene Mclaughlin defined police stations as ‘urban institutions’. Among other things, these are places with a ‘local reputation’ and ‘their

156 Here is followed the concept of ‘place’ as used in the field of human geography, that defines place ‘as a context or setting, in relational terms, as an outcome or product of processes, and as something active and dynamic’, Lynn A. Staeheli ‘Place’ in John Agnew, et al. (Edits.),A Companion to Political Geography, (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2003), pp.158-170 (p.159). 82 own stories’, features that helps to make them so publicly recognisable.157 In a classic work on police studies, Robert Reiner stressed that one ‘basic nature of police work’ is the fact that it is a device of ‘dispersed surveillance’ which, in turn, facilitated the development of high levels of discretionary autonomy detained by the individuals placed at the bottom of police hierarchy, principally when policemen walked on the beat away from the station.158 Ethnographical studies have used the police station as one of the main places for fieldwork. In historical studies, urban historians like Richard Dennis have identified the police station as a vital site in modem cities without going much further than a mere reference however.159 Despite being recognisable locales in the urban landscape and the tacit assumption of their importance in the police organisation, they remain an under-researched theme in police history.

And in fact, the assumption of the distinctive features of police organisation - dispersion and autonomy - noted by Reiner can lead to an attempt to understand police organisation and its development from a different standpoint. Police historians have normally chosen different approaches to their works: national systems, the study of one particular force or specifically at the street-level of the beat patrol. In this chapter, the police station is adopted as the focus point. From this perspective,Policia Civil is perceived as a network of nodes - different police stations - and their formation, functioning and articulation are examined. In fact, although part of an institution, they are a universe in their own right and a certain degree of autonomy that individualises them due to the intrinsic nature of their various parts: the police stations but also the beat patrol. Historically, the transformation of urban policing cannot neglect an analysis

157 Eugene McLaughlin ‘Police Station’ in Nigel Thrift, et al. (edit.) City A-Z (London: Routledge, 2000), pp. 186-189. See also, Nick Fyfe ‘Police stations’ in Stephen Harrison, et al. (Eds) Patterned Ground: Entanglements of Nature and Culture, (London: Reaktion Books, 2004), pp.174-175. 158 Robert Reiner The Politics of the Police (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000) 3rd Edition, p.7. 159 Richard Dennis Cities in Modernity: Representations and Productions of Metropolitan Space 1840- 1930 (Cambridge: CUP, 2008), p.xiii.

83 of these basic but central units that structured the entire police organisation. Thus, the analysis of these basic units may well be an essential line of analysis - from below but integrated with the above - to assess the more general transformation of policing in the nineteenth century. The modernisation and bureaucratisation process of the state apparatus was full of micro contradictions, resistances and conflicts which, in the long term, had a decisive influence on the organisational shaping of the state apparatus.

In the Portuguese context, this history starts immediately with the word used to identify them. Nowadays the Portuguese word for police station is esquadra - esquadra de policia. The etymological origins of the word have two different roots. As a noun, it comes from the Italian squadra used in the naval and army contexts to mean a set of ships or part of a battalion. The current translation of the word from the Italian into

English is, among other meanings, ‘team’. A second origin of the word lies in the Latin verb squadrare, which means to reduce to squares.160 The latest official dictionary of

Portuguese gives the word 4 Esquadra' two meanings related with the police: a section in a police division and the station house. Giving an example of its use in current language, the dictionary provides the expression 4He/she complained at the nearest police station’.161 There are thus two current meanings for the word esquadra when associated with the police (it is still used in nautical terminology as well): one denotes a territorial sense, meaning a police zone, a circumscription, a spatial portion of the city; and another sense meaning a physical place, a house, where police services are located which, as the example given shows, is associated with a sense of closeness. In general, the first meaning has tended to disappear nowadays and only the second is used in everyday language.

160 Jose Pedro MachadoDicionario Etimologico da Lingua Portuguesa (Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 1977), Vol.II, p.470. 161 AA.VV., Dicionario da Lingua Portuguesa Contemporanea da Academia das Ciencias de Lisboa (Lisbon: Editorial Verbo, 2001), Vol. I, p. 1551. [Our emphasis].

84 The association of the word ‘ esquadra9 with the police is a nineteenth-century phenomenon, strictly connected with the creation and development of the Policia Civil as it was not used by Guarda Municipal or other previous military police forces. Up until the second half of the nineteenth century, dictionaries only gave the naval and military meaning of the word.162 In the 7th Edition of the Morais da Silva dictionary, the most important nineteenth-century dictionary of Portuguese language during the, dated

1877, it still maintained this double meaning.163 Only in the 8th Edition, published in

1890, did the entry ‘ Esquadra’ incorporate the connotation with the police in both its territorial and place meanings.164 The meaning as a place must have started gaining ground since the 3rd edition of one of the most important twentieth century dictionaries, published in 1911 only gives one meaning for ‘ esquadra'\ police station (posto policial)}65 Notwithstanding, in terms of official language, in the nineteenth century the word ‘esquadra’ served primarily to designate the partition of the city in police districts, in police zones; hence reflecting mainly an administrative exercise of territorial circumscription.166 In fact, the language of legislators in police regulations rarely used the word ‘esquadra’ explicitly to designate the place where police services were located. "Stations" (estagdes), "Headquarters" (quartel das esquadras) of the esquadras policiais were the most common expressions to designate the house where police services were organised. Broadly speaking, the term “estagao” used to designate the

162 Rafael Bluteau & Antonio Morais da SilvaDiccionario da lingua portugueza composto pelo padre D. Rafael Bluteau / reformado, e accrescentado por Antonio de Moraes Silva natural do Rio de Janeiro, (Lisbon: Officina de Simao Thaddeo Ferreira, 1789), Vol.I, p.752; Antonio Morais da Silva, Diccionario da Lingua Portuguesa, (Lisbon: Impressao Regia, 4th Edition, 1831), Vol.I, p.815; Eduardo Faria, Novo Diccionario da Lingua Portuguesa (Lisbon: Typographia Lisbonense, 1849), Vol.I, p.489. 163 Antonio Morais da Silva Diccionario da Lingua Portuguesa (Lisbon: Typographia Joaquim Germano de Souza Neves, 7th Edition, 1877), Vol.I, p.723. 164 Antonio Morais da Silva Diccionario da Lingua Portguesa (Lisbon: Empresa Literaria Fluminense, 8th Edition, 1890), Vol. I, p.839. 165 Candido de Figueiredo Novo Diccionario da Lingua Portuguesa (Lisbon: Portugal-Brasil Limitada, 3th Edition, 1911), Vol.I, p.802. 166 It is worth noting that the common designation of the place where the services of the rural police - Guarda Nacional Republicana - are located is indeed posto, which, with estagao, are the most correct translations for the English word ‘station’.

85 1 £H house of the police was still in frequently use until the early twentieth century. The fact that Portuguese people living in the cities policed by the Policia de Seguranga

Publica (the current name of the Policia Civil) speak of esquadras de policia and not estagdes de policia is due more to the language used in everyday interactions among policemen and between policemen and city inhabitants from 1868 onwards, than to the will of legislators and the government. This chapter is therefore focused on this socio­ cultural historical process by which a word was appropriated to the police process of organisational shaping, a word that was initially mainly used to designate an administrative circumscription of the city, but was ultimately used to mean a place.

3.1. From old Guarda Municipal stations to new Policia Civil stations?

As noted in the previous chapter, Lisbon had a military police force that predated and coexisted with Policia Civil between 1868 and 1910. Before the creation of the new police force in 1867, the designation police station (estagao policial) was commonly used to refer to the places where Guarda Municipal placed some of its men to stand on watch. It can be concluded from the discussions between different authorities in the correspondence that reached the Ministry of Interior at various times in the 1860s that

Guarda stations and patrols (either by cavalry or infantry) twenty-four hours a day or just during the night were seen as complementary but opposite forms of policing. Men assigned to stations stayed there the whole time, while men assigned to patrols did not report to stations but to the Guarda's few central barracks. Occasionally, men assigned to stations could patrol during the night; however, the constant shortage of manpower in

167 See for example the realistic novel ‘Diary of a policeman’, published in 1919, where the author still uses the term ‘estagao’ to designate the place, Eduardo NoronhaDiario de um policia (Lisbon: Guimaraes Editores, 1919), passim.

86 Guarda Municipal limited this practice.168 When asked by the Ministry about the

convenience of establishing a station in the city’s Polytechnic School in August 1862,

the Commandant of the Guarda stated that ‘the number of stations is already very high in relation with the available force of the Guarda, and this results in reducing to the

absolute essential’.169 On another occasion, when inhabitants of some farms in a rural zone in the outskirts of the city - Penha de Franga - asked for the establishment of a station that had recently been removed, the Guarda commandant argued clearly that

‘the greater the number of stations, the smaller the number of patrols which are of recognised need’.170 Because they implied the assignment of one man to one place, the

Guarda stations were seen as a better way to protect a place, while patrols in a delimited area were seen as inferior but inevitable given the available resources. Especially in more central areas, the designated ‘stations’ were mere sentry-boxes with one or two guards. In general, all the references to the number of guards assigned to Municipal stations in the Ministry of Interior correspondence indicate to a number ranging between six and ten guards, commanded by a sergeant. Divided into shifts of a maximum of six hours, each station would have had two or three men at every moment of the day. The most important aspect to retain here is that these two different but sometimes complementary forms of policing were not intertwined in the organisation of policing. In general, one area had either a station or was patrolled by infantry or cavalry.

Guarda Municipal stations were observation posts more than places to coordinate and manage policing. This was more clearly stated when in May 1869, the owners of a tobacco factory located near the waterfront in the working-class, occidental zone of the city asked the Ministry to establish a Guarda station there by transferring

168 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.3015, L°14, N°375. 169 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.3023, L°14, N°1325. The exactly same argument was used in March 1864 in a case where the transfer of a station from the outskirts of the city to the main hospital, S. Jose, was being discussed see IAN/TT-MR, Mg.3025, L°14, N°1794. 170 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.3021, L°14, N°1039.

87 another one from a nearby location. Called to give his opinion, the Municipal commandant opposed the transfer stating that the existing station ‘is one of the most well located because, with its view, it dominates a large area of land occupied by streets and alleys, and it is on hand for any necessity of the police service, and in fact keeps many sailors and other individuals in order who continually flock to the public houses nearby’.171 One of main factors determining the establishment of a Guarda station was the visibility that the location provided of a certain portion of territory to the men assigned to it and the proximity to particularly susceptible areas.

An important characteristic of Guarda Municipal stations and their significance in the devising of policing strategies was their constant instability; they were frequently established, dismantled and changed location. One good indication of this volatility of the “station” in how Guarda was organised is the difficulty in determining how many stations existed and how this number evolved over time. Contrary to what would later happen withPolicia Civil stations, the number and addresses of Guarda stations were never published in the popular almanacs in the 1860s or later. The decision to open, close or move Guarda stations from one place to another seemed to rely more on the availability of premises, costs and the funds available and, of course, the opportunity of occupy places free of charge. In Oporto, in 1863, the shortage of manpower was the argument used by the Commandant to close two stations at the city gates in the eastern part of the city, leaving, in the words of someone who wrote complaining to the minister, ‘inhabitants of one of the city’s limits completely abandoned and without any aid \ 172 On the contrary, the outbreak of conflicts in August 1864 between the workers of a tobacco factory on the east side of the city and the owners and other municipal authorities led to the establishment of a ‘station’ composed of one sergeant and six

171 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.3071, L°19, N°581. 172 IAN/TT-MR, M g.3015, L214, N2333. guards in order to ‘give protection to the employee’ and ‘maintain the workers’ in good

order and peace; this station was removed just a few days later and re-established and 17^ re-removed again at the beginning of 1865. For the government and the Guarda

command, the concept of ‘station’ was a purely military concept of a somewhat static

disposition of the force throughout the territory.

In Lisbon in March 1864, St. Joseph Hospital asked for the establishment of a

Guarda station on its premises. The director of this institution argued that a Municipal post in the hospital was justified on the grounds that people injured in brawls and demented persons often attracted tumultuous crowds and that criminals being treated in the hospital could easily escape. Reluctantly, the Commandant agreed to open a station there, but only by transfering an existing station in a semi-rural area in the outskirts of the city - Sete Rios.114 This, in turn, was a station with a long a story behind it. Sete Rios had had a station in a house in a nearby farm since 1st January 1852. The house had been offered at no cost by the landlord. In December 1859, the landlord met with the

Commandant claiming that he needed the house for his own businesses but he could leave the station there if the Guarda paid an annual rent. For unknown reasons the case was only resolved in August 1860 when the Ministry agreed to pay the rent. By that time, the landlord did not want to rent the house at all and Guarda had to start looking for a new house in the vicinity. At the end of August, the Commandant wrote to ministry saying that he had found the only house available in that area and asking for permission to rent it. The Ministry conceded and the station was moved to a place near the terminus of a newly-established omnibus line.175 More than three years later, in

December 1863, the new landlord of the same farm asked the Ministry to re-establish the station on the farm premises offering a house free of rent. He complained that the

173 IAN/TT-MR, Liv.l686-A, fl.5-8, 56-57. 174 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.3025, L°14, N°1794. 175 IAN/TT-MR, M q.2981, L°12, N°701.

89 farm had been constantly attacked by thieves because it was isolated and without any neighbours nearby. The Ministry consulted the Civil Governor who opposed the transfer of the station to its previous location. He argued, first that Municipal guards already patrolled there at night, secondly, that the existing station was in a very favourable location in a ‘central place’, and finally the house of the current station had recently 11fi been refurbished by the landlord. The station stayed where it was. Just a few months later, it was summarily removed to St. Joseph Hospital in a totally different part of the city. The existence of a station in a determined area was not a given fact but a result of a negotiation process between authorities and other institutional and private actors, a process in which the contingencies were often outside the will of what authorities (and particularly police leadership) blueprinted as the ideal organisation of policing. Since neither Guarda Municipal or, later, Policia Civil had proposed built premises (this probably only started in the 1930s), it essentially remained a very unstable and unpredictable process, more in the case of Guarda then later with Policia.

Another example of this occurred many years later, in 1887, when the Policia

Civil was already well established. In 1885, a group of residents in a rapidly growing neighbourhood near the city’s limits - Campo de Ourique - successfully petitioned the

Ministry to establish a Guarda station housed in one of the new buildings of the neighbourhood with the rent to be paid by this group. Firmino Benites Lopes, one of the new residents of the neighbourhood, who was given as guarantor to the landlord of the rented house two years earlier, wrote to the Ministry complaining that he was paying all the rent of the house in which the station was established. According to Firmino, many of the residents that promised to pay part of the rent had already left the neighbourhood and so Firmino had to pay the rent alone. For the Commandant, even though the station

176 IAN/TT-MR, M?.3023, L°14, N°1440.

90 house was ‘not well located in relation to the area it should police’, it was a useful

station in a growing part of the city which, moreover, was not yet covered by Policia

Civil. The Ministry examined the funds available to pay rents of stations and finally

agreed to start paying the respective rent.177 Especially in the suburbs, the territorialisation (although stations are the focus here, the same was happening with patrols) of the Guarda took place mainly through a negotiation process in which the state did not necessarily take the first step.

After the creation of Policia Civil, discussions between Guarda Municipal and the Ministry in the correspondence exchanged on policing strategies were mainly structured around the infantry patrols versus cavalry patrols. Normally, there was a struggle between the Guarda command and the government to get more funds to buy more horses. Very rarely - the example above is an exception - these discussions again included the establishment or dismantling of stations. Another key characteristic of the

‘conversations’ between the Guarda and the Ministry in the 1860s and after, at least from what survived in the Ministry archive, was the almost complete absence of talks that involved the thinking of the system as a whole. An exception to this was a general plan proposed by the commandant of Oporto’sGuarda in late 1861, and discussed in the Ministry in 1862. Reacting to the city growth in term of the extension, number of thoroughfares and population, the commandant discussed the whole ‘organisation of a police system’. Besides the need to increase the number of guards, he proposed the creation of stations in locations chosen by agreement between the commandant, the

Civil Governor and the city council, with each comprising an entire company. The stations had to be preserved in the same place as long as possible in order to ‘obtain an accurate knowledge of the people that circulate in that place’; moreover, the location of

177 IAN/TT-MR, M?.2837, L°37, N°344.

91 the stations had to be made public in notices displayed throughout the city.178 These

recommendations were never implemented. Indeed, although ‘stations’ persisted as

organisational units of Guarda until 1910, they were not considered central features in its organisation; as already noted, patrols, particularly of cavalry, were the main feature in a Guarda Municipal organisation that gradually specialised in public order maintenance tasks.

Many of the proposals made by Porto's Guarda Municipal commandant eventually become features not of his military police force but of the new police force created in 1867 - Policia Civil. As will be seen in the rest of this chapter, the coming of

Policia Civil contributed significantly to the change in the meaning of police ‘station’ and to in the relation of the police with the urban space. Concepts of state territorialisation that had been changing in the previous decades evolved rapidly in this period, not so much in terms of ideas but because there was political stability and resources to put these ideas into practice.179 The delimitation of the esquadras area and the respective location of the station house transmitted a notion that in relation to the police, the state had a much more active role in knowing, controlling and managing urban territory. After its legal institutionalisation, in the second half of 1867, a series of operations took place in Lisbon with the aim of creating the actual police body, e.g. the creation of internal regulations, the recruitment of the men, the design and production of the uniforms, etc. One of these operations concerned the territorialisation of the new police force. One week after the law of 2 July had been published, on 8th July, the

Ministry requested that the Civil Governments of Lisbon and Porto indicate the areas that would constitute the new police precincts. Thus in the early days of summer 1867,

Lisbon’s newspapers began reporting that men from the Civil Government were

178 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.3007, L°12, N°2042. 179 Maria Alexandre Lousada, ‘Una Nuova Grammatica per lo Spazio Urbano: La Polizia E la Citta A Lisbonna, 1760-1833’, Storia Urbana, 2005, vol. 108, pp.67-85. 92 surveying all the city’s streets, alleys and mews. On 23rd July, the civil government of

Lisbon sent the Ministry the list of places constituting each esquadra.180 Two days later the precincts were officially enacted and published in the official journal of the 101 Portuguese government. If the term ‘bureaucratic rationalisation’ can be used to characterise specific actions and contexts, it may aptly be applied to operations like this.

Using an old form of representing space, the partition of the different spaces to each station was represented in an inventory of places and not through a visual representation of the city’s space in a map, as Illustration 2 documents. In a city still without ‘avenues’ the list of places comprised thirty-five different classifications of spaces (street, square, alley...). A total of 917 places were distributed in 3 divisions subdivided into 12 esquadras, which were then subdivided into 39 sections. Decades later, in summer

1893, when the new commandant - a military officer - took charge of the recently reformed Policia Civil, one of his first actions was to request the city council to give him the available maps of the city in different scales; in the following years, he not only devised a new division of station areas, carefully delimiting each one, but also assessed the existing patrols and proposed a new general scheme of beat patrols.182 Both in 1867 with an inventory of places and in 1893 using modem maps, the intimate relation of police with urban space, translated in a regular redefinition of boundaries and classification and categorisation of places, was an essential characteristic of how the police organisation was structured.

180 IAN/TT-MR, M9.3049, L°17, N°567. 181 Diario de Lisboa, N°167, 29-07-2867. 182IAN/TT-APCL, NT4 NP329, Letters No 69, 70, 19-09-1893.

93 Illustration 2 - Law-decree with the allocation of city's places to the different Esquadras.

Anno 1867 — Numero 167 Segonda feira 29 de julho DIARIO 11 LISBOA FOLHA OFFICIAL DO GOVERNO PORTUGUEZ LiJjJoA

o 4acr{}>!nrlt» *lM.'.,d±*T*vrULcU*,STW"*A,p0rm, • ^ r two O D 1**10 * ----- *------*~ r Pot MU Boa.’ mb #*So| GomksImXm • eroijtttearfM, por JUb*. >abl(e*{«MUU«rkrU* (!« m f*e»L«ro» dub i | IN* ea mum ... 10*000 ... u e Mua;i::-.i 1X#000 (I Koboto «toUo, par cxd* folU* 4m olio

Sua Magestacle e Altez&s passam aem novidade em sua importante saude.

Largo da Igreja de S. Vicente, PARTE OFFICIAL de Sunta Msrinhn. do Sorra. do Ooudrinbo da Aneixdoeira. MIMSTEUIO DOS XF.GOCIOS DO RELNO doe Uemedios. do Santo AodrA OlXHOQiO OtttAI. DE AZtMINIBTEAClO CIVIL do Eapirito Santo. do S*lmdor. 2 .‘ K a p irtlc lo da Alfnrja. do Mens 110 Deus. do Ixmrciro, Beco do Garciis. A Sua Magee tada El Rei, Regento eni nome do Rci, foi doCaradro. de Santa Holm*, presents o mappa daa circamscripsSes ne esqaadraa e de do Chanceller. do Loureiro. Hccf/uea, era quo devo scr dividida a capital para o servigo do Forno da Gallo. do Funil. do corpo de polieia civil, crcado pela lei de 2 de julho cur­ do Ooidrinlio do Aroeodoeira. de S. Vlccnle. doe Puna. dos Aguilieires. rents, publicada no Diario de Lisboa n.# 149; e Sua Ma- do Vignrio. gcatnde, tendo cxaroinado o quadro d’aqnellaa divieSe*. e de Marla da Guerra. aohando-o adequado ao semqo para que6 destiaado. bouvc da* Cruses. de Prow, por bem approva !o, o ordena quo se observe emquanto a da liiro. de Uvgmnbnf. do* t apti vot Formosa, dos Cicrigoa. ox peri one: a nio noatrar a neccsdidr.de de qualqaer alters- da ( ardooa. d* Mo. 9S0, quc Heard «empr« dep-endecte da approrajSo superior. do Pocinbo. do Salvador Determine Umbern Sua Mageatade o Regents que 0 go- d* S. MigncL da Eza. vornador civil do Lisboa nlo «6 active 0 aiutamento para do Annhal. Eacadinbs* do S. Thome. dc Alfaca. das La tolas Geraoa 0 corpo da policia dril, mas trats qar-nto antes de organi- do Corthaeate da* Pcllea. Costa do CRsteilo. sar u regutamento pnrft 0 serrigo d’elle, qne sabmetteri i dm Mortua Patoo dos QaintsUnhoa. approvavAo do gorerno. do Alegrete. Crux de Santa Helena. PaQo das Neccnidades, cm 23 de julho de 1867. ==**7000 d* t 'urrina. Caracoi da G ng* dc Santa Helena, Tclhriro dc S. V icentc. Jiaptieta da Silva Fcrrao de Carvalho Mdrtem. do Me&ia. Eacotas Gcraes.______> do Goedcs. Roe da Sandade. da* Mcrcicira*. Mappa daa csqr.ndras e sua* sccnoes para 0 »ervi?o de policia eu de 8. Bartholomcu. . daSilva. do Limodro qac casrem dirirlir n eidado de Lisboa, con derignafao dos res . da Jniiuria. de Santa Lnxda. pectivoB posto* c eircuniuripgoas, organisado cm virtude da . do Mnfco. da SL TSuago portaria do ministerio do reino, de 8 de julho de 1867. para > das Barrellas. da Lage. cumpruuento da lei de 2 do mesmo mes da Torre. • do AlmotacA ds» Daouu. Patco da Crua de Santa Crus do Castello. do Carneiro. do Stpirito Santo Am b|ti das Cirxinbaa. do Prior, daa Flore*, da Parrehioba- do Recolbimonto. do Marechal. do CWto da Feiru. Flu* do Caea cbs Soldados. Eacadiniiai de Santo Eetcvio. 1 0J do MRagre de Santo Antonio, da Bica uo bapato. "I Arcos de D. Rosa, ess* de Sant* Ltuda. do Mirtuito. de Jem*, si de S. li.irtbolesneu. da Crua da Santa Apolonix. do Rosario. = s Largo doe Lr.ioa. de baata Apolonia. Cae* da I/tngucta. t! das Porta* do Sol. da Cra* da Pedra. Praia da Faasll^ao. - a do Coutodar Mar. do I’araiao. do Terrain). <£ do Chio da Fotra. Traveasa do Cotiilo de Aviutea. Boa da Crua doa Quatro Comiuhoa t! de Santa Crua. do Baposo. do Limoetro. do Zagalio. • do Valla de Santo A atonic*. i 8, » Dlrnita da Grass. dc S. Martinhc. do Mcio. de Sauta Lozia. do Paratzo. • da Gloria. 5 • do Sol. Beco do Bugio. dc Laxaro Leitio. do CUun da Feira. do Alto do Varejlo. » da Bella Vista. » das Beats*, do Reed in men (o. Calgaila do Forte. raven** do Pereira. do Seminario. • da Veronica do Fo.-no. do Jnrdin-. doe Ccstoiros. • do Mato Gross0 . • dc Santo Antonio. Pnteo de D. Fra lique de Santa Ajmtauia. • da ScaSora da Gloria. da* Parrcirx s. • do OliraL do famufo. ______da Crox da Pedro. • dc Entre-muios. Ron (Lib Farinlm. K m . 11 • das Frciras. Largo de Santo* Novo*. da Acnadn Beco da Bica do Sapato. • das Flares. de S. Pedro Martyr, dc S. Loxirengo. tins Fuutainhns. do Oliral. de S Cbristovuo. Rua do Jardim do Tabnco. do it ix ante, do Rq?e4or. do Vidro, da Costa do Cwtdlo. • do Vjgario. da Veronica, . cssa da Cua. » de Santo Estevio. do Porno do Sol­ . da Main. » da Cm* do Man. Ctlgada da Rosa. » da Eigueira. do Marqusx deTaneoa. » dc S. Miguel. ■ do Termro do Trigo. » do Caw dc Saotarta. Beco das Flores. » de S. Pedro. do* Burradore*- . da GajlA do Salrador. do Foroo. de,S. ThomA dm Rosa . de Castello Pi tic de Bsnta Marinha. do Cascalho • da Jndieria. da* Escolas Geraes. da 8. Praneifca Traveau de S. Join da Prapa. da Loureiro. da Atafos*. Urgo de S. Rafael. Dirrita do 8. Vlcentc. do Cblo do Loureiro. . do Terreiro do Trigo. dos Cegcs. da Psrmrinka. • de Santo Eatevlo. Travessa do Agougue. do Jasa‘m. . do Cbafaris de Dectro. do S. Vicente. Largo do# Triguciros. . de S. Miguel. Monica*, da Rosa, Beco de Penabuquel- de Santa Marinba. das Gralhnf. . do Mello. de 8. Thomd. de S.'Christovmo. • da Lapa. Calfsds de Santo AndrA do Cblo do Loureiro. • do Maquincz. da Grsga. de Correio M6r. do Menioo Deu*. da rua da* Farinl Calgadinha do Hjolo do Sequein. de 8. Cbriatov' Largo do Sequdra. de 8. Cbritpl-

Source: Diario de Lisboa, N°167, 29-07-2867.

94 3.2. Mapping the city, territorialising police authority

The establishment of the Policia Civil brought renewed strength to the government’s

ability to know, watch and control the socio-spatial organisation of Lisbon. As Marie

Vogel stressed when studying a medium-sized city in France in the late nineteenth

century, territorialisation was one of the most significant dynamics in the transformation

of policing in this period and enhanced police efficiency as it raised both the quantity and quality of police surveillance. According to this author, this process was matched by a parallel break with the military model; as this promoted a new specialised field of policing functions, it prompted not only the increase of ‘normal’ police activity (such as 1 tackling crime and disorder) but also other municipal services or the ‘petite police’.

Historical geographer Miles Ogbom also stressed the centrality of this territorialisation process and linked it with the police’s organisational arrangements: ‘For the police, this

[state penetration and coordination of the times and spaces of civil society] involves the ways in which the arrangement of police action over the space of the city intersects with their own internal authority structures and the information flows between their constituent parts’.184 In Lisbon and Porto in the late 1860s, the state was potentially better able to intervene in the city’s routines. For this to happen, however, the police had to adapt itself to the existing and changing city.

Eventually the outcome of this strengthening process was more clearly discernible in police returns (to be examined in the last chapter of this work). It is

183 Marie Vogel ‘Police et espace urbain: Grenoble 1880-1930’, Revue d’Histoire Moderne & Contemporaine, 2003, vol.50(l), 2003, pp.126-144 (pp.128, 137-143, citation p.141). 184 Miles Ogbom ‘Ordering The City: Surveillance, Public Space and the Reform Of Urban Policing In England 1835-1856’, Political Geography, 1993, vol.XII (6 ), pp. 505-521(p.506).

95 advisable, however, to begin by examining the organisational arrangements and dynamics that made this intervention possible. This point of the chapter deals with the process of structuring the Policia Civil, closely articulated with the transformations observed in Lisbon’s territory. It begins with an examination of the evolution of the number and geography of police stations and their increasing importance in the overall policing arrangements of the city. It moves on to consider other aspects of how the police related with the territory of the city. In particular, it focuses on the police perception of the basic dichotomy between centre and periphery and the different strategies used in each one. In this respect, different technologies such as the telephone and bicycles, and policing strategies like the ‘fixed beats’ (patrulhas permanentes) will be examined. Finally, it concludes with how the implantation of police in the city’s territory had to be a negotiated process using the example of the premises that housed police stations.

Even though the legal regulations enacted in 1867 established a structure of twelve police stations, it was not until after the reform of 1876 that this number of stations was effectively created. Up until then, and despite what the law prescribed, there were in fact nine stations.185 This highlights a very important aspect of the process of making a police force: it is not only an issue of the quantity of resources available, which was ultimately a governmental decisions, but of how to organise them in order to make them function in a homogenous, coherent and controlled mode, which was often beyond the government’s intervention. The number of police stations that effectively existed in the early days of the Policia Civil demonstrates a degree of organisational autonomy that persisted over the years.

185 IAN/TT-APCL, NT215 NP077, DO N.296, 22-10-1876, P.l.

96 From the mid 1880s, the number of police stations deployed throughout the city’s territory increased significantly (see below maps 2, 3, 4 and 5). While in 1887 only 2 stations and 4 of the newly-created ‘posts’ (smaller in the number of men assigned to them and put under the command of the nearest station) were added to the original plan, thereafter the number of police stations began a gradual increase. This was not exactly by creating new stations at first, but by creating ‘ postos ’; whereas the number of stations remained the same in 1895, there was now a universe of 15 new posts. These were however soon upgraded to the category of station and by 1909 the number of police stations had doubled from when the new police was created, and also with the addition of 8 posts.

The evolution of the number of stations and the area which they covered reflected the transformations of the city territory, both in extension - a new division with new stations was created in 1885 following the administrative reform that had increased the area of the city -, and in a denser occupation of the urbanised core (new stations and posts were often established in the city centre or its surroundings particularly in the

1890s). The number police stations grew mainly in working class neighbourhoods located near the city centre, and some of these stations gained postos. Although difficult to trace the concrete rationale behind the creation of every station in the sources, it is not difficult to imagine that each case corresponded to a prior assessment of the social condition of a determined part of the city in relation to the available resources (financial as well as human). In fact, each station corresponded to a political and organisational exercise of geographical and social mapping of the city, although delimited to only a portion of the city. The making of a police force implied that the police leadership made assessment of the human geography of the city and its continuous transformation.

97 Map 2 - Policia Civil stations houses location in 1875.

A

Esquadras 1875 T ipo • Esquadra C? Comissariado Geral Freguesias em 1900

Source: Made by the author with the assistance of Daniel Alves of the Faculty of History of the New University of Lisbon with GIS software and with data from Almanach Burocratico Geral, Distrital e Concelhio para 1875 (Lisbon: Empresa Editora Carvalho, 1874), pp.296-297 (which contains the addresses of the stations).

Map 3 - Policia Civil station houses location in 1887^

A

Esquadras 1887 Tipo • Esquadra ▲ Posto % Comissariado Geral Freguesias em 1900 Source: Made by the author with the assistance of Daniel Alves of the Faculty of History of the New University of Lisbon with GIS software and with data from Almanach Burocratico Comecial da Empreza Literdria de Lisboa para 1887 (Lisbon: Empreza Literaria de Lisboa, 1887), pp.375-377.

98 Map 4 - Policia Civil station houses location in 1895.

A

Esquadras 1895 Tipo • Esquadra A Posto Comissariado Geral Freguesias em 1900

Source: Made by the author with the assistance of Daniel Alves of the Faculty of History of the New University of Lisbon with GIS software and with data from Alexandre Morgado Guia do Forasteiro nas Festas Antonianas (Lisbon: Typ. Comercio, 1895), pp.83.

Map 5 - Policia Civil station houses location in 1909.

A

Esquadras 1910 Tipo • Esquadra A POStO $ Comissanado Geral Freguesias e i 1900 Source: Made by the author with the assistance of Daniel Alves of the Faculty of History of the New University of Lisbon with GIS software and with data from Almanach Palhares para 1909: burocratico, comercial, ilustrado e literario (Lisbon: Palhares & C.a, 1909), pp.871-872

99 Normally, an analysis of the evolution of police forces and police manpower

tends to identify the total number of men available in one police force or in the police

system of the relevant region or country. In the case of Policia Civil, the growth of manpower was constant but came in different waves, as will be demonstrated in the next chapter. Despite the difficulties in public finances that led to the state’s partial bankruptcy in 1891, not only did the investment in the forces of order not decrease but was actually growing at the peak of the country’s financial difficulties. It is more important for the purposes of this chapter, however, to identify and emphasise the significance of the number of men assigned to each station. In 1888, for example, between 35 and 65 men were allocated to each police station, with an average number of 45 men. 1 In terms of territorial distribution, predictably more men were allocated to the central stations; the station in the Civil Government Building had 65 men and other two stations of that division had over 50 men. From this perspective, the police force cannot be seen only in its totality of over one thousand men at the end of the century, but must be studied as the result of this network of units with on average 40 men spread across the city. One question that arises in this context is: was the human composition of police stations stable, or on the contrary were men frequently transferred from one station to another? It is impossible to give a systematic answer to this question since it requires the study of the thousands of personal files of the men that worked in Policia

Civil over the years. However, the daily orders allow us to conclude that if the composition of police station was not stable, at least it was significantly valued in internal discourses and practices. Probably the most poignant example of this is the fact

186 IAN/TT-APCL, NT222 NP05, DO N.5, 05-01-1888, N.9. Up until the beginning of the 1890s regular daily order inform of the number of men assigned to each station. From the information available it is possible to conclude that the average number of men in each station had risen from 25/30 to 45 by 1888. This was with minor variations maintained in 1900s, but the data here is taken from policemen payrolls which, in the end of the monarchy, were organised station by station, see IAN/TT-MR, Contabilidade, M?.3707.

100 that the transfer to another station (normally further from the city centre) was one of the severest punishments that could be given.187 As chapter 5 will address more closely, stations were actively promoted within the organisation as sub-groups with a significant degree of unity and stability.

Police stations were promoted as units to actively seek the formation of organisational cohesion. Either when the station personnel was punished as a whole for some misconduct or when one policeman was punished because he refused to contribute to a public collection made among the station personnel, the active promotion of station unity and the existence of practices of sociability limited to the members of one station 1 88 is evident. In fact, esquadras were operational units with a certain degree autonomy and independence which not only emerged from the daily routines but also through the fostering of group bonds. When guard n°46 of the 2nd division arrested a renowned criminal in May 1874, the general commissioner ordered that he should be praised in front of the whole station. 18 Q Just as with the punishments, the existence of collective accolades embodies the organisational desire to foster a police culture with the station as a basic unit, in both a human and a material sense.

In August 1893, the government introduced the most profound reform of Policia

Civil since its creation in 1867 that concluded in April 1894 with a new General

Regulation. The results of this reform would last in the Lisbon and Portuguese police system until the ascension of the authoritarian New State in the 1930s. The full meaning of this reorganisation - in what it says about what had been the practice until then and

187 See for example IAN/TT-APCL, NT225 NP088, DO N.272, 29-09-1889, P.5, which reports a case where a number of guards had violently shaved the heads of some prisoners. One of the guards was expelled from the force and the police station chief and an identified number of guards were transferred to another police station. 188 Collective punishments were regular, see for example: IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, Do N.210, 29- 07-1873, P.l; NT214 NP076, DO N.221, 09-08-1874, P.3; NT215 NP077, DO N.112, 21-04-1876 P.2. To the case of the policeman punished for not contributing see IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NT082, DO N .109,19-04-1885, P.2. 189 IAN/TT-APCL, NT214 NP076, DO N.150, 30-05-1875, P.l.

101 the consequences for the future - will be examined throughout the rest of this thesis. For this chapter, it is essential to look at what this reform meant in terms of the police’s territorialisation process. One of the main decisions contained in this reform was the introduction of an organisation based primarily on functional specialisations. The creation of three different divisions - ‘public safety’, ‘administrative police’ and

‘criminal investigation and preventive police’ - meant that the organisation changed from one structured on a predominantly territorial basis to another where the function was at the core of how services were organised. The creation of these new functional divisions was accompanied by the extinction of the ‘Police Divisions’, which were symbolically and materially represented in the Commissariat buildings. Police stations formed the public safety branch and were directly commanded by the General

Commissariat. The vast majority of the available human resources -the uniformed, beat patrolmen - were allocated to the public safety branch. The city was divided into two zones, east and west, to which a varying number of police stations belonged: 9 stations and 6 posts to the east and 10 stations and 4 posts to the west. These zones did not however have the powers and autonomy that characterised the former commissariats.190

The territorial power and autonomy had now been transferred to the functional authority and independence of the new police branches. The end of the commissariats was also an evident indication of the growing importance of police stations in the way the police was organised and functioned. Public safety police - i.e. patrolling the streets

- was a police service that had to be organised and performed from the station , with

190 The extinction of the Commissariats had already been proposed in 1876 in the parliament by the Count of Cavaleiros, who was the Civil Governor of Lisbon in 1867 responsible for the creation of Policia Civil. His proposal came with a criticism of the increased burden of bureaucracy in police work: ‘No one can imagine what the Portuguese spirit about paperwork is. There is not one institution that does not starts by buying many blank books and having a great number of individuals employed in drawing maps and writing letters. This fever, which is generalised, entered the police force, starting by creating a general commissariat and three police commissariats. Each administrative neighbourhood has its own commissariat, and each of these has its own secretary. They write to each other and from them to the civil government, who responds to them. So every little thing needs six letters’. See DCD, 18-01-1876, p.34.

102 these functioning as real anchors of the whole organisation. Other, more specialised police services e.g. criminal investigation or food inspection, were to be performed by centralised units, separately organised from the territorialised stations. The question at stake at this point is if the 1893 reform was promoting a new mode of organisation or alternatively whether it reflected transformations already underway within the police force.

From the 1880s, the importance of police stations increased because of their numerical growth; in addition new technologies and organisational strategies made them central to the whole arrangement of the police and policing practices. Thenetwork that they constituted, bounded in a formal hierarchical and bureaucratic structure (which will be examined more closely in the net chapter), had achieved a degree of organisational stability and public recognition by this time. At this moment in time another significant technological innovation, the telephone, further strengthened the link, boosting the speed of communications and, one can imagine, making the transmission of information within the police more frequent and efficient.191 From 1882, the telephone occupied a new place in Lisbon police stations, the “telephone room” soon became an important space inside the police station.192 Along with commercial houses, banks, theatres, fire stations and some private houses, police stations were among the first services to use the telephone after the granting of the public concession to the Edison Gower-Bell Telephone Company of Europe Limited in January 1882 (the contracts between the police and the company were numbered 17 and 18).193 This was not however the police’s first encounter with the telephone and other new electric devices. The telegraph had been in use but only for communication between the General

191 Besides police stations, some police leaders (Commissioners and police station chiefs) had their private residences connected to the network. 192 IAN/TT-APCL, NT230 NP092, DO N.13, 13-01-1895, P.l, order that referring to the telephone room (salas dos telefones) warns of the confidential nature of all police information. 193IAN/TT-MR, Contabilidade, M5 .8 O.

103 Commissariat and other authorities.194 And the police had been using the telephone since at least 1880 - the first daily order about the telephone use is dated December

1880 - through the services provided by the commercial house of M. Herrmann and C.

Bramao.195 Indeed, the police used of other electric devices that this house made available to the public. In previous years, for example, the police had invested in electric bells which functioned as alarms to call the policemen.196

During these early years, telephones in the police were used more as an intercom device, linking the general commissariat to fifteen police stations first and subsequently to all of them. Years later, a second contract between the police and the telephone company connected the police to the public network so that the public could phone the police stations. However, as the number of subscribers remained very limited, it is very doubtful that this happened often. Even though the telephone was soon socially perceived as a valuable instrument ‘in cases of disorders, fires, etc., giving immediate warning sign to the points from which help must come’1 0 7 , it would still take a long time to see the telephone being widely used to call the police.198 However, it should be emphasised here that one of the underlying rationales for the creation of Policia Civil - emergency -, explored in the first chapter of this work, gained a powerful instrument from this early introduction of the telephone if theory if not in practice. In comparison with the other police force of the city, Guarda Municipal, our sources indicate that

Policia Civil relied more on the telephone. Although after the 1910 revolution the

194 It is also possible that some stations had telegraphs in the late 1870s. See IAN/TT-APCL, NT217 NP080, DO N.352, 18-12-1878, P.7 and NT217 NP080, DO N.259, 16-09-1879, P.l assigning some men to the “telegraphy class”. 195 It is highly probable that the police made at least sporadic use of the telephone since 1877, since that was what had happened with the city’s fire-fighters, see Hermes Augusto Camelo Historia do Servigo Telefdnico do Batalhao de Sapadores Bombeiros (Lisbon: CML, 1971), p.l 1. 196IAN/TT-MR, Contabilidade, M9.8 O. 197 Comercio do Porto, 02-07-1882, quoted in Rogerio Santos Olhos de Boneca: uma historia das telecomunicagoes 1880-1952 (Lisbon: Colibri/PT, 1999), p.32. 198 In Lisbon and Oporto there were 3051 subscribers of the service in 1901, and 5944 in 1909; in the rest of the country there were 682 subscribers in 1909, see Santos, Olhos de Boneca, p.59.

104 General Commandant of the Guarda Municipal described his fight against the

republicans as ‘two nights and one day working with five telephones’, in fact telephones

were only installed in the Guarda’s main barracks, in contrast to all Policia Civil

stations.199 If the number and length of daily orders on one subject are indicative of its

importance in police work, then the telephone gained an inescapable place in policing

routines between 1885 and 1895.200

The telephone allowed information to circulate much more rapidly, thus

allowing faster decision-making and police force reaction and intervention in the

different occurrences. Threats to the public order, more serious crimes or any main

incidents disrupting the routine of the city reached the general commissioner, other

authorities and even the government and the king much more quickly.201 But the telephone was not only used as an instrument in the practice of policing. One of the first and most important functions of the telephone throughout this period was to transmit information about the organisation of work. For example transmitting at every shift what type of uniform the men should wear (for example, if the men on the night shift should wear an overcoat or not, depending on the weather and as central control wanted everyone to wear the same); in December 1880 the first daily order about telephone use,

199 Jose Lopes DiasO Coronel Malaquias de Lemos e a revolugao de 5 de Outubro (novos documentos), (Lisbon: Imperio, 1964), p.67. 200 Just to cite the more important orders: IAN/TT-APCL, NT218 NP081, DO N.99, 09-04-1881, P.l, general order about the use of the telephone; NT219 NP082, DO N.13, 13-01-1885, P.4, which regulated the telephone use and gives special warn about the confidential nature of the information to be transmitted; NT219 NP082, DO N.202, 21-07-1885, P.8, about the need to always have one guard close to the telephone in the station but especially regulates the mode to communicate with the Civil Government; NT225 NP087, DO N.315, 11-11-1889, P.6, regulates the correct way to communicate with the municipal fire department; NT225 NP087, DO N.10, 10-01-1890, P .ll, determines how the telephone should be used in cases of medical emergencies; NT225 NP07, DO N.279, 06-10-1890, P.17, general order about the use of telephone in the stations; NT229 NP091, DO N.330, 25-11-1892, P.5 Emphasises the need of communicating all extraordinary events through the telephone, this like other orders was remembered in daily orders in the following years. 201 Judge Veiga, who commanded the criminal investigation branch from August 1893 until November 1907, spoke on the phone regularly with the king about public order and political revolutionary activities. See how this direct connection between the police command and the king were the subject of criticism by the republicans in Afonso Costa Discursos proferidos nas sessoes de 13 e 19 de Maio de 1908 da Camara dos Deputados (Lisbon: Livraria Classica, 1908), pp.74-76.

105 was precisely about this. 202 In the subsequent years, the non-transmission of prompt information by the telephone became a reason to severely punish some guards.203 It is difficult with the available data to determine the extent to which the telephone entered policing routines; the fact they became frequently mentioned in the daily orders and other correspondence is, however, an indication that the telephone led to a more interconnected and cohesive organisation on a daily basis. The sheer presence of police stations throughout the city’s territory fostered government interference in urban everyday life, but the installation of the telephones enhanced the transformations of police stations in information hubs at the neighbourhood level. Information was gathered at the stations for many purposes and from there transmitted to the centre (or the other way around).

The centrality of police stations in police organisation and policing practices was also related with the undergoing process of functional specialisation in Lisbon’s police system seen both in the police reform of 1893 and also in the way policing was arranged between the Policia Civil and the Guarda Municipal. As showed in the maps above, smaller units - postos - became common at the end of the 1880s. In general, these police units resembled the Guarda Municipal stations - a limited number of men assigned to a determined location. Later some of these posts evolved to the category of stations. The continuous opening of these smaller units from the mid-1880s, but especially in the early 1890s, is explained by the progressive specialisation of the

Guarda Municipal into a public order maintenance force, which meant that it withdrew men from daily policing routines and probably led to a de-territorialisation process with

202 IAN/TT-APCL, NT218 NP081, DO N.344, 09-12-1880, P.6; see also on the same issue NT219 NP082, DO N.192, 11-07-1883, P.4; NT221 NP084, DO N.271, 28-09-1887, P. 4 As we will be examine in Chapter 5 this came as a conclusion to a continuous problem with the lack of uniformity in the way policemen were dressed on the streets. 203 For example, IAN/TT-APCL, NT220 NP083, DO N.340, 06-12-1885, P.4, in a case that involved the escape of prisoners from the local prison, Limoeiro.

106 fewer stations and men organised in larger battalions.204 Towards the end of the century, the industrialisation of the city meant working-class neighbourhoods were growing and there was more political awareness and contestation among Lisbon society which stirred the city’s police authorities to take measures. One occurrence in 1886 is illustrative of this process that saw Policia Civil deepen their territorialisation with the ‘station’ as a cornerstone and Guarda Municipal doing the opposite, de-territorialising via a specialisation in public order maintenance.

In early June that year the city went through three days of riots with widespread tumults involving army soldiers, the populace, Guarda soldiers and Policia Civil. It started with a routine arrest of an army soldier and a woman by a policeman in the very popular Amoreiras fair, probably because of indecent behaviour. On their way to the police station the army soldier showed some resistance causing the policeman to blow his whistle to which two Municipal guards responded. According to a later lengthy report of the Guarda Municipal commandant, this triggered an altercation between army soldiers that had meanwhile arrived on the scene and the forces of order, especially

Guarda soldiers. The next day, the actions of the Guarda (which included firing shots) were extensively condemned by the press, something that a resentful Commandant noted to the Minister. In the following days, the riots spread through the city to various locations and now involved not only army soldiers but also general mobs, all screaming against and attacking Guarda soldiers. A few days after, in his report, a relieved

Commandant declared: ‘the city is back to its normal life’. He added a few remarks about the city’s atmosphere and what the authorities should learn from this occasion:

‘The disorder emerged in such a manner that everything seemed already prepared for it, lacking only the pretext, that certainly unconsciously, was given by the army soldiers, and readily exploited by the enemies of order

204 Some correspondence in the Ministry of Interior indicates this change; however, only a more extensive research in the Guarda Municipal archives will completely prove the veracity of this assumption, see for example, IAN/TT-MR, M?.2845, L°38, N°931.

107 and the institutions. With the use of more energetic means, order would have been restored in the early days, and the Guard commanded by me - which represents the principle of authority - would not have been so painfully sneered at. The so humane consideration of sparing the blood of the mob should only go until authority starts being discredited. It is impossible to go further than this without making the monstrous sacrifice of law and morals. Finally, comparing this with other disturbances that repeatedly have frightened the city, we see that the means used by the populace are in continuous progress: first, the cry, then, the stone; today the gunshot and tomorrow... what will it be? If authority does not respond with energetic repression when these actions develop, the society will be at the mercy of the unrestrained populace, which will haughtily stand with the boldness that impunity allows.’205

The report circulated among ministers and senior officers at the ministry and probably among other police leaders, including from Policia Civil. The perception that the political atmosphere and the social landscape of the city had been changing rapidly and required changes in the organisation of the police system had been growing since the late 1880s and intensified in the early 1890s, thus contributing greatly to the reform of 1893. It should be stressed that the policing specialisation process that affected

Policia Civil with the creation of the three branch divisions meant that the Guarda focused on public order maintenance and retreated from daily policing activities which were now concentrated in the public safety branch of Policia Civil.206 For Policia Civil, the institutionalisation of a ‘public safety branch’ meant the deepening of the tenitorialisation process through the creation of more police stations.

The process of shaping the police structure and the practice of policing was intrinsically linked with urban territory and its transformation. It was already noted that the creation of new police stations reflected and responded to the growth of the city and how this process corresponded to the establishment of policing priorities (more stations

205 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.2833, L°36, N°521. 206 On police specialisation and professionalisation in the 1890s in Lisbon, particularly on GM’s focus on public order maintenance see IAN/TT-MR, Mg.2866, L°41, N°288 where this question was discussed, in 1891, when the cavalry was increased and the infantry sacrificed. See also Diego Palacios Cerezales ‘Estado, Regimen y Orden Publico en el Portugal Contemporaneo (1834-2000)’ (PhD Thesis, Madrid: Universidad Complutense de Madrid, 2008), pp.280-289;

108 in the city centre or working-class areas) through the continuous evaluation of the socio­ geography of the city. However, the relationship between the police’s organisational development and the territorial transformations of the city was more than just the creation of police stations. The search for solutions that improved policing in a city that was in the process of ceasing to be ‘walkable’- in which someone could almost live on one edge and work to the other end of the city - was quite visible at the end of the nineteenth century.207 Two of the most significant examples of this were the adoption of wheeled stretchers (macas rodadas) and bicycles used for patrolling.

In 1888, the police station network had already extended away from the city centre and thus away from basic services like hospitals. Some services performed by the police were affected by this new geographical location. One such service was the transportation of the injured and sick to hospital, which as noted in the first chapter was present at the inception ofPolicia Civil and will be addressed in the last chapter due to its overall importance. On these occasions, policemen would either carry the stretchers themselves or, more frequently, hire errand boys (mogos de fretes) with a policeman overseeing the service. However, ‘with the establishment of new police stations in locationss distant from the city centre there has been some difficulty in readily finding carriers to conduct the stretchers with the sick and injured to the hospital. Some [of the carriers] absolutely refuse to make these conveyances because of the excessive weight of the stretchers, with others requiring an exorbitant payment’.208 The solution found by the Civil Governor and the police’s General Commissioner was wheeled stretchers already being used in the army. These stretchers would make the service lighter and quicker thus solving the conflicts with the carriers and saving the policemen assigned to this service some time. The Civil Government’s initial proposal to the Ministry was to

207 For Lisbon’s territorial growth and the development of public transportation see Antonio Lopes Vieira, Os Transposes Publicos de Lisboa entre 1830 e 1910, (Lisbon: INCM, 1982), pp.36-54. 208 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.2845, L°38, N°930.

109 borrow ten stretchers from the army but in the end they had to or chose (the correspondence is not clear on this aspect) to buy twenty four of these stretchers built by the army specifically for the purpose with the necessary adaptations.

With a larger and sometimes only sparsely inhabited city and few men available, the police had to devise solutions that enabled them to cover the entire territory efficiently. At the beginning of the twentieth century, a solution was found in an object which was becoming increasingly popular: the bicycle.209 On 4th May 1900 policemen read in the order of the day: ‘recognising the great advantage that may accrue to the police service in general and for the health and physical development of the policemen in particular with the bicycle exercise, [the commandant] with all pleasure authorises the guards to make use of this locomotion device, either during service compatible with it or elsewhere; and it will be very pleasant to know that the taste for this type of activity develops as much as possible within the force’.210 It seems that at first bicycles were perceived and used more as a mean of physical training for policemen than a practical work instrument. In the following years, however, this started to change and bicycles were progressively used in the regular police service. Yet there is little known evidence of the number of bicycles in police services and it is difficult to determine exactly when they began to be routinely used. It was already well after the implantation of the Republic in September 1915 that a general order regulated the use of bicycles in 911 police service. Moreover, photographs from 1918 provide further evidence of their extensive use in this period (Illustration 3). However, it can be believed that bicycles began to be progressively introduced in policing routines during the final years of the

209 Until 1892 only a small number of bicycles had been imported. In the 1890s cycling developed as an elite sport and leisure activity. It was only in 1903/1904 that the rise in imported bicycles made it increasingly an everyday object for middle and working classes. Symptomatically, in 1906 some identified the bicycle as the ‘horse of the poor’, see Vitor Costa ‘O Desporto e a Sociedade em Portugal: fins do seculo XIX - principios do Seculo XX’ (MA Thesis, Lisbon: ISCTE, 1999), pp.62-64. 210 IAN/TT-APCL, NT234 NP096, DO N.124, 04-05-1900, N.12. 211 IAN/TT-APCL, NT246 NP107, DO N.258, 15-09-1915, N.I. 110 monarchy as a response to the territorial growth of the city. Lisbon is known as the seven hill city, but despite this difficult topography the police found the bicycle enabled them to cover the city more efficiently; this, in turn, began to change the way policing related with urban space.

Illustration 3 - Policemen training in cycling skills in 1918.

Source: Arquivo Fotografico Municipal

Despite being a political and organisational priority, the process ofPolicia Civil territorialisation - embodied in the growth of the number of stations and a correlative number of men - was not only expanding. There were recurrent material and human resources contingencies that posed problems for how the police ‘blanket’ covered the city. This, in turn, meant that the police structure had to be flexible and dynamic. At times it resembled the patchy establishment and dismantling of Guarda stations as was seen earlier in this chapter; but it should not however be forgotten that, in the case of

Policia Civil there was a much more systematic approach to urban space than in the

Guarda Municipal. In August 1894, for example, the general commissariat invoked ‘urgent police service needs, [which were being] increased by the growing development of thoroughfares in the city’ to temporarily close four police post in the outskirts of the 919 city. This became a frequent measure when public religious and civic celebrations or festive days like carnival brought an anomalous number of people to the city centre. On these days, many neighbourhoods in the periphery had no police or, it can be assumed, had to recur to the old forms of voluntary policing with the parish constables or private forms of policing with the night-watchman. These movements, that could occurred on a regular or irregular basis, shows the malleability of the police structure that was able to adapt to the more momentary movements of the city when necessary. Sometimes with the previous agreement of Guarda Municipal, this meant opening temporary posts at annual fairs in places like Belem or Amoreiras, for processions like the one dedicated to

Senhor dos Passos (Our Lord of the Steps) or at exhibitions such as the Portuguese

Industrial Exhibition in late 1888 and early 1889.213 In general, it must be noted here that peripheral neighbourhoods, either working-class or middle-class, were the first to be ‘abandoned’ by the police when resources were short.

The inverse situation was found in the city centre. Despite all the changes introduced by the territorialisation process of the police force, the city centre was the main challenge to Lisbon’s police and specific strategies were in fact implemented for this area. The perception of the scarcity of policemen patrolling the streets was a problem stated internally and at a political level.214 And although the remarks normally referred to the whole city, it was in the downtown that the shortage of men on the streets was mostly felt. The density and heterogeneity of the people that used the city centre

212 IAN/TT-APCL, NT230 NP092, DO N.235, 23-08-1894, N.2. The posts were: Vila Dias (Beato), Telheiras, Laranjeiras, Sto Amaro. 213 The post opened on 28th June 1888 and closed on 16th April 1889. See IAN/TT-APCL, NT223 NP086, DO N.157, 05-06-1888 P.12 and NT255 NP087, DO N.105, 15-04-1889 P.l. 214 About the ‘lack of policemen on the streets’ becoming an especially ‘sensitive’ issue on Sundays and holy days see IAN/TT-APCL, NT217 NP080, DO N.313, 09-11-1878, P.8. In parliament complaints emerged about the existence of only one ‘policeman to every six streets’, DCD, 14-05-1884, p.1573. 112 posed a more acute problem for the police and demanded different solutions. From

1886, it became usual to assign ‘fixed and static beats’ in the city centre.215 Policemen

assigned to these beats remained for the entirety of their shifts at a pre-determined spot, 91 normally a street comer, controlling only the few yards that were in sight. But the

concept of the ‘city centre’ was a dynamic one for the police organisation. A list of

static posts in 1891 shows that new ones were added that were far from the initial 917 posts. Eventually the strategy of fixed and static posts was introduced in other

stations, although probably with a smaller number of guards employed in this service.

Wheels in the periphery and fixed beats in the city centre are fundamental examples that demonstrate, first, how the social construction of space was embedded in the structuring of a police force and, secondly, that there was not one plan or model for the entire city but intrinsically a dynamic negotiation with the city itself.

A final contingency found by the police in the process of deploying and managing its structure within the city’s territory was that it had to find the premises to house police services by negotiating with the state’s senior hierarchies as well as the urban built environment in general. The large majority of police stations during the period under study were housed in rented premises. In November 1899, for example, twenty-six police stations and posts were rented from different landlords.218 It is unclear why the government did not purchase outright the police station houses but the answer is probably either the desire for flexibility or the lack of financial resources at difficult times as was the case after 1891. Numerous problems arose from this situation: an almost constant real or perceived lack of funds; the criticism from the services in the

215 IAN/TT-APCL, NT221 NP084, DO N.219, 07-08-1886, P.5; NT221 NP084, DO N.227, 15-08-1886, P.4. 216 A more extensive analysis of how this strategy was adopted by the police will be done in the next chapter on the section about police leaders. 217 IAN/TT-APCL, NT227 NP087, DO N.17, 17-01-1891, N.7. 218 IAN/TT-MR, Contabilidade, Mg.4383. The rest of the stations, like many other state services in this period, were housed in parts of old convents nationalised in 1834, as was the case of the General Commissariat premises.

113 Ministry of Interior to the police command about the amount of money spent on rents; the contingencies of the renting market over the plans and options of police to arrange the available force.

One illustrative example of this happened during most of 1890. When a central train station opened in May 1890, General Commissioner of the Policia Civil decided that it was indispensible to have a police station nearby. With the agreement of the Civil

Governor, a house was chosen and proposed to the Ministry. However, permission was not granted to rent the house because the rent was judged too high. A few days later

Policia Civil proposed an alternative solution to the Ministry: they would close two stations in order to get funds to open this one which they regarded as essential to policing arrangements. The minister agreed with this solution. As property values had risen since the opening of the train station, in mid November the landlord demanded a higher rent, starting 1st January. Policia Civil argued with the Ministry that it was impossible to find a new house near, as the existing one had been specifically ‘arranged by the landlord to suit well the services of a police station’. They proposed closing a police station in the periphery and a post near the city centre. The ministry agreed with this solution, but criticised the high sums of money spent on housing police stations. In the end, the establishment of one police station in a particularly critical location meant the closure of three other stations and one police post. Although the maps above give the impression of an ever growing police territorialisation process through the creation of new police stations, when the daily management of the police is examined reveals itself much messier and negotiated than would be imagined at first sight. Problems with landlords were not uncommon. In a housing tenure system like that of late nineteenth century Lisbon, which blatantly favoured the landlord over the tenant, a uncertainty ruled the relationship between landlord and tenant with, for example, a permanent threat

114 of rent increases.219 This tense dynamic relation had significant effects in the way police force was territorialised.

The centrality of the police station in the policing operational structure has been heavily emphasised in this chapter. But it is also important in another related aspect: the production of an occupational culture. More specifically, the developments being discussed here can be linked with the intense debate among social scientists about the existence of a policemen particular culture, the ‘canteen culture’, its distinctive characteristics and how it is produced and reproduced.220 In the following chapters, the essence of this ‘bounded world of beliefs and practices 221 will be discussed in more detail, but for now two conclusions related with the ‘canteen’ side of this culture must be retained: 1) this was a world structurally organised in small nodes, which had been placed at the core of police’s structure in the course of the organisational shaping during this period; 2) these material and human units that formed a police network created and were created by the existence of material spaces, the police station houses. These units played a pivotal role in the production and reproduction of police culture and policing practices, constituting true anchors that structured the whole organisation. This chapter will now take a closer look at this second point.

3.3. The station: a place in the making

Police stations have become a familiar sight in society as a result of the sense of closeness allowed by their implantation in the urban territory and, in the twentieth-

219 Daniel Alves ‘A Republica atras do balcao. Os lojistas de Lisboa na fase final da monarquia (1870- 1910)’ (PhD Thesis, Lisbon: New University of Lisbon, 2010), p.382. This study is about shopkeepers in Lisbon. As police stations were normally installed on ground floors that were also normally used as shops, similarities can be seen in the relationship with shopkeepers’ landlords and the police’s landlords. 220 P. A. J. Waddington ‘Police (canteen) sub-culture: an appreciation’,British Journal of Criminology, 1999, vol. 39(2), pp.287-309 (p.287). 221 William H. Sewell Logics of History: Social Theory and Social Transformation (Chicago: Chicago University Press), p. 156.

115 century, their recurrent depictions in mass media and the entertainment industry.

However, very little is known in Lisbon or elsewhere about their history as a physical space. As noted at the beginning of this chapter, the current meaning of the word

‘esquadra relates’ it more with the sense of a site - the place where police services are located - than to a demarcation of an administrative zone. Officially, the word was probably more used to designate a portion of space; this was a common meaning still in existence during the second half of the nineteenth century and in the early twentieth century. What constituted a novelty in this period, one that was prompted by the emergence of Policia Civil, was now an increasingly more common meaning of

‘esquadra ’as a house, a place. Below will be examined the organisational and social process by which station houses emerged as central anchors of police work, and were publicly and symbolically recognised as the closest places of administration and state authority in the lives of the population living in the different neighbourhoods of the city.

This section of the chapter aims to examine the production of distinct and specific spaces inside the police station houses by examining the discourses in the daily orders - i.e. in the daily circulation of information from the centre of the organisation to the nodes of the network spread throughout the city. Unfortunately the two ideal sources to study the station as social and culturally constructed places are unavailable or do not exist at all for the case of Lisbon. The blueprints of station houses would probably be one of the best sources to study how the station houses were structured and how they evolved over time. But because police stations in Lisbon were overwhelmingly located in common, private ground-floor premises, these plans are inaccessible if they still exist at all. Policemen’s memoires are another possible good source that could be used to study police station practices and routines and the specialisation of spaces inside police stations. How they represented places around which their professional routines were

116 structured, what meanings they attributed to the different spaces inside a station house, how they used, did not use or misused these places are all relevant questions. With the exception of detective Jacob’s memoires (which do not contemplate these issues), the earliest policemen memories referring to the everyday life of beat patrol and station routines of Lisbon police focus on the 1920s and 1930s. Fortunately, these are the memories of other non-police personnel who had frequented Lisbon’s police stations in the late nineteenth and early twentieth-century. In fact, there are plenty of literary descriptions of police stations because they were physically and socially situated so close to the city dwellers.

The analysis of the process that physically shaped police station houses starts by looking at how they appeared and were treated in the laws that regulated the organisation of Policia Civil. The police reform of 1893 and the new general regulation enacted in 1894 were pivotal moments and provide precious indications of how the station was evolving as a place.222 Two main aspects of this issue were particular subjects in these legal texts: visibility and time. Firstly, these legal documents stressed the public visibility of station houses: each station should have a public sign in its front doorway with the words “Esquadra - Estagao” which had be lit all night with gas lighting. In the smaller posts the word “estagao” should be replaced by “posto”. Given that police station houses were commonly rented, the authorities were concerned about their integration and visibility in the neighbourhoods. Comparing with the case of

England, where the easily-recognised and newly-constructed police stations acted as a clear indicator of the state’s presence and integration into local communities, the common rented shops made this visibility more difficult in Lisbon.

222 Policia Civil’s General Regulation, 12-04-1894, Chapter V.

117 Secondly, unlike previous regulations, the law devoted attention to the opening hours of the stations and clearly stated that a station house should be ‘open permanently day and night’. This did not mean that stations were not continuously open previously, but the need to state this legally is an evident sign of the growing centrality of police stations. In fact, the preoccupation of politicians, senior ministry officials and police leaders with the visibility and public recognition of the place where stations were located can be interpreted as both a reaction to and emphasis of this importance. The stations were known to be among the few buildings opened all night long along with pubs and coffee houses of the worst reputation.

As police station houses were in general ground-floor premises in residential buildings, police had the same problems and conflicts with neighbours as a common dweller would have. In the height of the political instability that ended in the

Republican Revolution (1907-1910), this proximity was used, for example, by the revolutionaries to spy on and control police movements; but other more trivial problems like noise and rowdiness can also be easily imagined as triggering problems between the police and their neighbours.224 This integration in the common residential life is best seen in the Pateo D. Fradique police station. It was an old aristocratic palace that had been adapted for working-class housing and divided into several lodgings. The police occupied one of these spaces so had to live in close proximity with several families.

Established in dwellings designed to be inhabited by families or shops, police had to adapt themselves to the existing space and not the contrary. Although there is some evidence that premises in the 1890s were refurbished before opening as police stations to comply with some police requirements, there was nothing that resembled a specific

223 Albino Forjaz Sampaio, Lisboa Tragica (aspectos da cidade) (Lisbon: Empresa Literaria Fluminense, 3rd Edition, 1917 [1910]), p.44. 224 Raul Brandao, Memorias (Lisbon: Relogio de Agua, 1998 [1919]), vol.I, p.143.

118 architectural pattern for police stations.225 Police structure and services had to adapt to

and negotiate with the space provided by available houses on the renting market.

Consequently, the division and specialisation of spaces inside police station houses

resulted from both the transformation of work practices and the contingencies of the

existing space. In this context, it is difficult to conceive of a clear distinction between a public domain, or front area where the general public was allowed to stay, and a private area where policemen could socialise, hold detainees and perform interrogations as has been identified by late twentieth-century ethnographers.226

However, some spaces resembling these boundaries can be identified. Aquilino

Ribeiro was one of the most famous Portuguese writers of the twentieth century. His youth however was marked by his involvement with radical currents and the fabrication of explosives. In November 1907, just a few days before the resignation of Veiga, the head of the Policia Civil’s criminal branch, Ribeiro was arrested after an unintended explosion that killed two of his compagnons de route. After many comings and goings inside police services (General Commissariat, Police Station and Veiga’s private dwelling) following his arrest, Ribeiro claimed in his memoires published decades later that he quickly got the police’s ‘bureaucratic landscape’ ingrained in his mind.227 The station had caught his attention in particular. ‘The esquadra of Caminho Novo at the time was, in what respects to its interior, very different from what it is today [1960s]. It was a small rectangular slightly oblong... ground level floor, with a tiny grape vine trellis at the door put there by a bucolic guard, nostalgic of the leaves in his own threshing floor’. 99R He then proceeded to indentify the dungeon in the basement, the clerical work room and the dorm in another room. In a very similar description written

225 IAN/TT-MR, Mq.2866, L°41, N°351. 226 Simon Holdaway ‘The Police Station’ in Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, 1980, vol.79( 9), pp.79-100. 227 Ribeiro, Um escritor, p.220. 228 Ribeiro, Um escritor, p.200.

119 in the 1940s, the typographer andfado singer Avelino Sousa added the station’s chief office as another identifiable space within the station.229 These outsiders’ descriptions raise the question of how management proceedings ordered police stations space and formed these identifiable divisions.

Despite the fact that police had to adapt to pre-existing housing conditions, there was a visible organisational reflexion on police services inside police stations and measures were taken to arrange and rationalize them. Over the years, the police command took care to more clearly delimitate spaces, to determine who should or should not be allowed to frequent specific places. In October 1881, for example, the

General Commissioner emphatically contended against the enormous amount of varied people that were seen in the corridors of the commissariats and police stations. He ordered that practice to stop, only allowing policemen or people accompanied by them to circulate on police premises.230 Controlling entry into the station was one of the main tasks of the sentinel at the doorway who remained at the doorway and decided who should or should not be allowed entrance. This was not an easy task and mistakes could be made, but the long night shift in a static position was also difficult to perform and so the task was commonly given as a punishment for those encountered sleeping in the 9^1 station or talking with colleagues and detainees. The routine inside police stations at this period was characterised by a dynamic tension between disordered and unorganised space, favoured by the contingent material conditions, and a concern to rationalise space and procedures. Some defined spaces and practices therefore emerged from this tension.

229 Avelino de Sousa Bairro Alto: Romance de costumes populares (Lisbon: Livraria Popular de Francisco Franco, 1944), pp. 116-125. 230 IAN/TT-APCL, NT218 NP081, DO N.289, 16-10-1881, P.4. 231 For example, IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, DO N.244, 01-09-1873, P.2.

1 2 0 Illustration 4 - Entrance of Pateo D. Fradiquc station with the sentinel at the doorway in early twentieth century.

Source: Arquivo Fotografico Municipal de Lisboa

An earlier space developed within police stations was the station chiefs’ office.

On several occasions over the years, some points in the daily orders directly for station chiefs clearly specified that certain tasks had to be performed in his office. Notably, the lecture sessions that they should give to the policemen which will be analysed in the chapter on the shaping of the policeman. But the growing demand for written information was another sphere of the police station chiefs’ work that demanded a degree of privacy. This could be either: information to be sent to the police headquarters or, to a lesser extent, to other authorities; or secondly, paperwork directly related with managing the station. The first type of information included for example the ‘daily service maps’ , the ‘fortnight sheets’ for salary payments, the reports of occurrences or reports about specific issues.234 The second type comprised the copies of daily orders and other useful information for the policemen (like the addresses of public health

232 IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, DO N.295, 22-10-1873, P.l. 233 IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, DO N.297, 24-10-1873, P.L 234 For example about the types of employees working on coffee shops, IAN/TT-APCL, NT223 NP086, DO N.197, 15-07-1888, P.7.

1 2 1 superintendents), or the ‘paid services’ (servigos remunerados) schedule.235 Altogether, they turned the chiefs office into a distinct space of bureaucratic writing. One consequence of the growing written bureaucracy of police work was the accumulation of paper and therefore filing practices inside police stations. The papers which were not immediately destroyed and had to be kept for later use were normally kept in the chief’s office. The most blatant example is the daily orders. The daily orders book was a particularly sensitive object not only because of the information it contained but also because it circulated daily between the general commissariat, the commissariats and the police station houses. In 1890 the general commissioner reminded the station chiefs of the need to take ‘extreme care’ in filing the daily orders, which had to be carefully placed and kept safe in their offices. He finished the order with the threat: ‘Shortly an employee of the general commissariat will be assigned to oversee whether or not this order was fulfilled’.236

In his description of the police station where he was detained for some weeks and from which he had escaped, after ‘a careful study of the place and the policemen’, one of the spaces that Aquilino Ribeiro noted was a room that served as a clerical work office. With ‘two straw chairs and a pinewood table’, it was a central space in the 9^7 station around which much of the policemen’s everyday life was structured. In

November 1907, when Ribeiro was arrested, the centrality of this space was the result of a process that interconnected a more general transformation in the state bureaucracy and an organisational change that, like many other aspects, had its epicentre in the 1893 reform. With regard the first, the state’s and the court’s machinery developed, bureaucratic procedures structured around much more pre-determined and rigid writing practices especially from the late nineteenth century. In what respected the police, this

235 IAN/TT-APCL, NT229 NP091, DO N.254, 11-09-1893, N.6 . 236 IAN/TT-APCL, NT225 NP087, DO N.281, 08-10-1890, P.10. 237 Ribeiro, Um escritor, p.200, 228.

1 2 2 meant that other authorities, especially the courts, increasingly required large amounts of information. Internally, a key process that developed from the 1880s was that policemen were assigned the task of writing reports on occurrences with greater frequency. Apart from the external and more general causes, this was also because, as noted above, there were no longer any Commissariats who had previously dealt with these tasks; and, secondly, to put an end to the practice of hiring civilian clerks to handle the writing tasks.238 Thus filling in fine tickets, occurrence maps, public health bulletins, arrests and crimes participations were examples of the increasingly heavy workload of policemen and work that was done at the station.239 The police station was not originally created as a ‘bureaucratic place’ but that was what it became. Conversely, police did not invent bureaucracy, but transformations began to change the way ministry offices functioned, at the end of the eighteenth century, for example, in what was later termed as bureaucratisation. By the late nineteenth century, this reached the neighbourhoods with the street-level bureaucracies as exemplified by the police in police station houses.240

An obvious police station function was as a space where policemen socialised.

In this respect, it is possible to divide these functions into two different sides: firstly, serving for professional socialisation; secondly, as a meeting point for group sociability.

Spaces like the already referred chiefs office served the first function but also the

238 See the next chapter for the analysis of the evolution of police personnel. 239 Just to cite the more general orders on this subject, see: IAN/TT-APCL, NT220 NP083, DO N.238, 26-8 -1886, P.5, about bylaws’ fines tickets; NT230 NP092, DO N.203, 22-07-1894, P.3, about public health reports; NT231 NP093, DO N.76, 17-03-1895, P.7, about epidemics bulletins; NT229 NP091, DO N.292, 19-09-1893, W/N, about arrests participations; NT230 NP092, DO N.127, 07-05-1894, P.2, on how to report information about everything that comes to the knowledge of the police; NT231 NP093, DO N.159, 08-06-1895, P.4, procedures to take in cases that involved the seizure of objects; NT230 NP092, DO N.223, 11-08-1894, P.l, on how to fill participations in cases of arrests of beggars; NT229 NP091, DO N.290, 17-10-1893, P.9, about the correct way to elaborate occurrence maps; NT229 NP091, DO N.252, 09-09-1893, P.6 and N.100, 10-04-1901, W/N, regulating the circulation of information between the public safety and the criminal investigation branch. 240 Joana Estominho de Almeida ‘Utensilios burocraticos da Secretaria de Estado dos Negocios do Reino (1834-1843)’ in Pedro Tavares Almeida & Rui Branco (Eds), Burocracia, Estado e Territorio, Portugal e Espanha (Seculos XIX -XX) (Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 2007), pp.37-52.

123 parade in front of the station and the corridors on which important information (orders, new legislation, etc.) was posted and discussed. Illustration 5 below illustrates the press complaints against police censorship. This time, Rafael Bordalo Pinheiro - the most famous caricaturist in Portugal in this period - put himself as a policeman and the main literary association of the city (Gremio Literario) as a common police station: the

‘caricature in the service of the principle of authority’. The emphasis of the station wall with the orders posted in it ( ‘Sao ordes ’) in his representation is a clear sign of how journalists, perceived the importance of the information posted on the station walls, as will be seen at the end of the chapter, were themselves ‘users’ of police stations.

In the second function, there are no specifically structured spaces but socialising would happen all over the station and nearby pubs were also sometimes mentioned in the daily orders as places of policemen’s group socialisation - normally not for good reasons. In general, spaces existed within police stations that allowed policemen to socialise with each other outside the work routines. Each station had berths for new policemen arriving from other towns and for those on prevention service. There were also rooms just for policemen to rest between shifts. Writing about the main rough neighbourhood in Lisbon - Bairro Alto - one former inhabitant noted the similarity of these rooms first to a normal pub room with its bench seats, and then to the station dungeons. 241 To actively foster esprit de corps, which is an aspect of organisational cohesion, delimited social spaces are necessary. Barracks provide that for the military and stations for the police. The difference, however, was that police stations were intrinsically open and closer to the rest of the population unlike military barracks.

241 Sousa, Bairro Alto, p. 117.

124 Illustration 5 - Posting and reading the daily order in the station pin-board. CCMSEQUEISCXAS DOB ULTIBIOS ACGlTTECIMEIfTOS vES0UADRA DA RUA DO CREMJO LUSITANO hl.'66 ^ F ------~ ' ------1 HEGt'LAMENTO-

i <;ara.e-<5^PA‘

- W $ !'

/l I n X-

A Cariealnra ao scrvico do. principio da Ancloridade

Source: A Parodia, N°154,24-12-1902

Paradoxically, and in opposition with a more organisationally narrow view of the stations, they were also relevant as places because that they were not entirely restricted to policemen but were - coercively or not - routinely frequented by the population. In their more unpleasant facet, stations were frequented by individuals when they were arrested. In Lisbon, police stations were not normally places where

125 individuals were kept under arrest. Individuals were sometimes kept for a few days in a small number of stations that had better material conditions or on the periphery of the city centre and thus perceived as better places to keep detainees. The bad conditions of these soon became a political issue raised by the Republicans, but in general, those arrested were immediately transferred to the general commissariat and from there to the courts and eventually to prison.242 It is precisely through the spaces of detention in the general commissariat, their division and classification that it is possible to uncover some of the social classifications engendered by the police and their effects in policing practices. In October 1876, five new detention cells were built in the General

Commissariat; number 1 was destined for women, numbers 2, 3 and 4 for drunken crooks (gatunos embriagdos) and ‘to the individuals that demonstrate they belong to the low spheres of society’, and finally, number 5 was for ‘decently dressed individuals 943 (wearing ties)’. With new categories of occupants, like ‘youths’ ( rapazio), in early twentieth-century the cells were still functioning (see Illustration 6 and 7).

242 Costa, Discursos, p.78. 243 IAN/TT-APCL, NT215 NP077, DO N.283, 09-10-1876, P.l. Illustration 6 - Detention cells at Policia Civil General Comissariat, early twentienth-century.

Source: Arquivo Fotografico Municipal de Lisboa

Illustration 7 - Youths in the detention cells, early twentieth-century

Source: Arquivo Fotografico Municipal de Lisboa

127 Though detainees did not stay long in the police station houses, the act of

arresting someone increasingly moved from the street to the station house. The intimacy

of the stations was soon seen by police as a more protected space to act and preferable to the street. From the early 1880s policemen were advised that they should only give

‘arrest order’ (

What is clear is that the station house increasingly became a central place in the interaction between police and the public.

The population did not use police stations only because it was coerced to do so.

Indeed, one essential aspect to understand the progressive transformation of the meaning of the word iesquadra’> to be known as a house is that ‘esquadra’ entered the daily language of the population as a place that they could resort in search for aid. In his seminal work on police history, Eric Monkkonen called attention to the use of police stations as night lodges for the homeless.246 In Lisbon the police station was a place where help could be requested for a medical emergency, for example, and where stretchers were available to transport poor people to hospital. In 1882, Fialho de

244 IAN/TT-APCL, NT218 NP081, DO N.289, 16-10-1881, N.5. 245 One case of these cases, that involved disorder in the street and at the door of the police station happened between the police and students of the Polytechnic School and was discussed in the parliament for several days see DCD, 24-05-1882, p.1606; DCD, 25-05-1882, pp.1627-1633; DCD, 26-05-1882, pp.1656-1659; DCD, 27-05-1882, pp.1682-1683. 246 Eric Monkkonen, Police in Urban America, 1860-1920, (Cambridge: CUP, 2004 [1981]), pp.86-109. There is some evidence that this practice although not so widespread was also common in Lisbon. 128 Almeida melancholically described: ‘And when night fell, in shirtsleeves and denim pants, the poor enter the hospital, on the stretcher of the closestesquadra , on the shoulders of four Galicians’. In the last chapter, will be seen the extent to which these were significant services in policing practices, but for now it should be noted that whether asking for a service or complaining for a theft, the dynamics of police stations were indelibly affected by the fact that people came voluntarily to use them.

The increasingly regulated presence of journalists is a final issue where the process of spatial delimitation had inherent cultural meanings, notably through a clearer distinction between public and private spaces on police station premises. The relationship between police and the public perception of crime gained a powerful mediator in the final decades of the nineteenth century: the daily press. From the 1860s, there was an explosion in the number of titles in the whole country but especially in

Lisbon and the circulation increased exponentially. With respect to the police, the growing press and its increasing attention on crime created problems for the confidentiality of information gathered by police officers. A series of governmental decrees during the 1880s tried to limit press access to the number and nature of police occurrences. As already noted in this chapter, policemen were reminded regularly about the confidential nature of police information. This movement had its epicentre at the end of the century. Another issue raised in the 1893 police reform was journalists’ access to the interior of police stations. The presence of these actors on station premises came under attention and the intents to regulate their actions multiplied at the end of nineteenth century. After a series of minor conflicts that saw police authorities trying to limit journalists’ presence on police premises (not only stations but also police

247 Fialho de Almeida A Cidade do Vi'cio (Lisbon: Livraria Classica Editora, 9th Edition, 1959[1882]), p.53. 248 Jose TengarrinhaHistoria da Imprensa Periodica Portuguesa (Lisbon: Caminho, 1989), pp.245-246, 248. headquarters), in the wake of the 1893 reform journalists were allowed entrance in station houses to collect information ‘as long as this did not interfere with the good progress of judiciary police work’.249 The access of journalists to police premises was however increasingly regulated and restrained, if not in the stations at least in the general commissariat where all the main cases were handled and where all police occurrences could come to the knowledge of journalists. Sentinels at the door were instructed to look carefully at those they allowed to enter in the station house. During this decade, ‘press passes’ were created first to identify more precisely who the journalists were, but also to control their access to certain spaces (police stations and police headquarters but also ministries and the parliament building). The attention devoted to the journalist was not just amplified by the nature of the journalist’s position, but reflected a general movement on how circulating inside police stations become a more regulated, although not prohibited, practice. Although it goes beyond the objectives of this study to examine how stations were represented in the daily newspapers and what happened in their interior, it is possible to hint - from the preoccupation of police command in the daily orders - that a certain image of stations’ life was being constructed in the newspapers.

Conclusion

The introduction of Policia Civil in Lisbon’s police system represented a change in the ways the state machinery structured its relation with the city’s territory. In contrast to what was the prevalent situation with Guarda Municipal, Policia Civil effectively represented a process of state territorialisation and bureaucratic rationalisation in which

249 IAN/TT-APCL, NT229 NP091, DO N.245, 02-09-1893, N.9. 130 the government had the prime and much more active voice. This did not prevent the territorialisation continuing to be a negotiation with the population. The relationship between the police and the city continued to be marked in certain aspects by a dynamic of demand and supply, and ‘city’ means very different entities in this context like other institutions (including state institutions), the residents of a neighbourhood, street or square or the housing rental market. Contrary to what would happen in the twentieth century when technological devices like the telephone and the automobile changed the spatial organisation of policing, in the nineteenth century the rationale of physical proximity was behind the strategy used to organise policing, and the police station was a central anchor in this organisation.

A problem derived from our primary sources- particularly in the case of the

Ministry of Interior correspondence - is that they provide an image of appeal, cooperation or at least goodwill before state intervention. If the source were the daily newspapers, the image of the presence of police authority in the city territory and in the daily lives of its residents would probably be more characterised by resistance and conflict. However, regardless of the fact that these relations were more cooperative or more contested, the essential in this police / city relationship is that the dynamic of state formation was not a one-way street. The state - and though the police are being examined here, other state agencies could also be included - had an overwhelming and by this time increasingly significant power over the city’s spatial and social organisation, but this same state also had to adjust to the existing conditions, and this had visible effects on how the police organisation was shaped and, consequently, how the public experienced police authority.

The operations related with the activity of ‘policing’ either in an old more passive and patchily organised way represented here by Guarda Municipal or in a new

131 more active way here represented by Policia Civil were always intrinsically

‘experiences of space’, and transmitted an acute awareness to the ‘transformations of

9SO spaces, places and landscapes’. As Miles Ogbom argued, the ‘spatial organisation of surveillance’ conjured by modem states is a distinctive geography of modernity.251 In this chapter was examined the specificities of this process in the policing of urban milieu: more specifically, the concern with proximity and the visibility of the police.

Although Policia Civil meant an increased rationalisation in the way police was territorialised, this did not prevent police territorialisation continuing to be marked by fragmentation and discontinuities. The continuous adjustment of police organisation - with never enough resources - to a changing city was a particularly dynamic process, which was at times ridden by a process of trial and error.

250 Miles Ogbom Spaces of Modernity: London’s Geographies 1680-1780 (New York: Guilford Press, 1998) p .ll. 251 Ogbom, Space of Modernity, pp. 17-18. 4. Unity and diversity: from the unskilled worker to the police

‘expert’.

In 1909 a law professor of the University of Coimbra wrote in his

Administrative Law textbook: ‘ [The police] to carry out its mission should be moralised and moralising, strong but prudent, and in many cases instructive and benevolent without inequalities, otherwise it may become a promoter of disorder’. Discourses like this, coming from the Law universities where the attention on the formality and normativity of the law normally overlaps with concrete social processes, place greater emphasis on the importance of looking at police forces as a social structure, i.e. a specific framework of interdependent social relations. This chapter commences an assessment focused on the individuals and the relationships established between them in the course of their working experience which will be continued in the next chapters.

While the next chapter will be centred on the street patrolman, his socialisation and control, in this is provided an overall analysis of the architecture of the Policia Civil organisation, its evolution and main trends of change until 1910.

Throughout the nineteenth century, police forces became increasingly complex, socially diverse and yet, in general, more stable organisations. The causes for this are various: political, social and due to the professional development of the individuals that joined police forces. In the Lisbon context, the overall political stability enjoyed between the 1870s and 1910 directly contributed to the police development, something that would not be the case later under the Republican regime established in 1910. In

252 A. L. Guimaraes Pedrosa Cur so de Ciencia da Administragao e direito administrativo: reflexoes feitas na Universidade de Coimbra (Coimbra: Imprensa da Universidade, 1909), vol.2, p. 19. 253 William H. Sewell Logics of history: social theory and social transformation (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2005), pp.328-329.

133 contrast with what revolutionary contexts so often demonstrate, one of the outcomes of the political stability experienced between 1851 and 1907 (when the Republican threat became more visible) was that Policia Civil did not go through purges in this period.

Thus, a significant degree of continuity in the men that composed it - notably police leaders - and in the policies that shaped the organisation enabled a gradual and steady development. This chapter helps to assess this development by focusing on three issues that illustrate the social, cultural and functional diversity that underlying the police’s institutional unity. It begins with a classic social profile of Lisbon’s policemen discussing also the social status and conditions of police work. It proceeds to the other end of the police hierarchy with a biographical approach of the most significant of

Lisbon’s police leaders in this period. The contrasts that surface from the opposition between these two points of observation of the police will show how police forces were shaped through a contention between individuals with different social and cultural backgrounds which, in turn, resulted in different conceptions of the ideal of the police and policing. The chapter concludes by examining how the process of functional specialisation also contributed to further differentiations, with ‘criminal investigation’ as the most blatant example. Newly-emerged crime ‘experts’, often external to the police, and the growing representations about crime, urban life, appearing in the popular press - also growing - did not prevent the men operating inPolicia Civil from developing an expertise from their day-to-day experience.254 In what seems to be a particularity of Lisbon’s police development, the ‘criminal investigation’ specialisation grew alongside a more frequent, even if unsuccessful, intervention of Policia Civil men in the sphere of political surveillance.

254 Clive Emsley Crime, Police & Penal Policy: European Experiences, 1750-1940 (Oxford: OUP, 2007), p.2 0 0 .

134 When focused on internal organisation issues, police historiography has normally addressed different aspects of police organisation separately. From a ‘history of work’ perspective, historians have tended to concentrate the research on the rank-and file, on the ordinary beat policeman. Examinations of police leaders have normally appeared when political reform is at stake or when at some point public pressures for reform grew, but less when the concrete management of police forces comes to the fore. Likewise, the development of professional specialities, notably criminal investigation with the ‘scientific’ attached, has been addressed in the context of police professionalisation but disconnected from the more general development of the police as functionally more complex organisations. This chapter aims to indentify these multiple aspects of organisational development, situating them and emphasising the fact that there was a sole institutional frame bounding and conferring a degree of unity to these different but interconnected levels and processes.

4.1. Lisbon’s Policemen: social profile and working conditions

Before proceeding to the social profile and working conditions of policemen in Lisbon, a brief look should be provided into the hierarchical structure and manpower evolution of this force. Like many other spheres of social and economic life, the development of police organisations was marked by a continuous process of division of labour and a growing complexity in the hierarchically-organised relations within the work environment. This was an important historical process for the overall circumstances of police development because, for example, an autonomous ethos and professional

255 Clive Emsley ‘The Policeman as Worker: a comparative survey c. 1800-1940’ in International Review of Social History, 2000, vol. 45(1), pp.89-110. 256 For France see Dominique Kalifa & Pierre Karila-Cohen (Eds) Le Commissaire de police au XIXe siecle (Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne, 2008). For England see David Wall The Chief Constable of England and Wales: The socio-legal history of a criminal justice elite (Aldershot: Dartmouth, 1998).

135 identity did not normally emerge in the whole force but among particular ranks and function-related groups of policemen. Therefore, the examination of the police organisational structure and the social profile of the men that embodied it are central issues to study the development of the police and policing. Until 1893, the hierarchical structure of Policia Civil was relatively simple: General Commissioners -

Commissioners - Police Station Chiefs - Sergeants (Cabos) - Guards, with also a number of civilian clerical staff. After 1893, with the separation of the structure into three specialised divisions, different functional / hierarchical spheres emerged within the organisation (see figure 1 and 2). The ranks remained essentially the same, but it was not the same to be a chief in the public safety division as in the criminal investigation in terms of salary or internal and public status. After 1893, mobility opportunities within the police structure were greater despite the maintenance of the same formal rank structure.

Graphic 3- Policia Civil's hierachical structure 1867-1893

General Commissioner

Police Commissioners

Police Station Chiefs

Sergeants

Guards

136 Graphic 4 Policia Civil's hierarchical structure, 1893-1910.

General Commandant

Director of the Judge of Administrative Police Criminal

Inspector Registrar

Police Station Chiefs Sub-Inspector Chiefs

Agents Sergeants Agents (Until 1898)

Guards

It is more important to take a quantitative look at the personnel allocated to the police as a whole and to each division specifically than to describe the ranks of the police structure. The task is not easy since it must be based on sources of police financing (like the state budget), and the different forms of temporary financing sometimes used to equip the police with more men make it difficult to trace the overall evolution in the number of men. Graphic 3 shows the evolution of the number of personnel in Policia Civil and Guarda Municipal from 1870 until 1910. It was constructed with the numbers of the official annual government budgets and information from the Junta Geral do Distrito, a district administrative body mainly with advisory functions but used in the 1880s as an alternative way to fund the police. The overall conclusion is that the increase in the state’s police manpower took place through

Policia Civil. In the 1890s, there was a growth of both the Policia Civil and Guarda

Municipal, but subsequently the number of men allocated to the latter remained more or less stable. In terms of the Policia Civil, the table shows how police workforce remained more or less stable until the mid-1880s, starting at this point an upward trend that lasted until the Republican revolution when the police structure encompassed almost 1600 men.

The issue of the number of men available and the need to increase it was a recurrent subject in the correspondence between the Civil Governor and the Ministry.

But the possibility of merging the Policia with the Guarda was often rejected despite the need for more men. In 1882, for example, Lisbon’s Civil Governor asked the

Ministry to increase the force by 100 men. As had been the practice when there were large events and celebrations in the city, these would come not from new recruits but from the soldiers of the Guarda Municipal - ‘armed only with the tergados’ - put temporarily under the orders of Policia Civil’s General Commissioner. The ministry services declared however that they were against this solution stating that the different

‘nature’ and ‘discipline’ of the two police bodies would make it impossible to convey men from one force to the other on a more permanent basis. The provisional solution on that occasion was to advise greater collaboration and more complementary services (in 9S7 terms of beat patrols and stations). The different nature of the two forces was emphatically stressed by the Ministry officials. The insufficient number of policemen became more evident in the following years, not only because the population was growing at a faster rate but also the official city limits were increased in an 1885 reform.

Although Ministry of Interior officials frequently criticised Policia Civil organisation, discipline and services, and correspondingly complimented theGuarda Municipal, the growth of police numbers in the city was made through Policia Civil and not Guarda

Municipal. Even though the 1893 police reform fostered the entry of military officers into the police structure and thus complied with the wishes of the Ministry of Interior officials to improve police discipline, it is a clear sign of a policy trend that privileged

257 IAN/TT-MR, Mq.4961, L°32, N°218.

138 the strengthening of civil administration machinery over the military structures. The number of men in Policia Civil approached that ofGuarda Municipal, and superseded it in 1902/1903.

If the two police forces are considered there was 1 policeman for approximately

146 inhabitants in 1878 (227,674 population, 1556 policemen). Considered separately, there were approximately 587 inhabitants for each man of Policia Civil, and 195 inhabitants for each guard of Guarda Municipal. In 1890 the ratio of the two police forces per inhabitant had only slightly increased to approximately 153 residents for each man in the forces of order. What had change in the meantime was the balance between the two forces: while there was now one man of Policia Civil for every 379 persons, the number of guards of the Municipal per population had risen to 255. This movement continued and deepened until 1910, when there were 276 and 302 inhabitants for each man of Policia Civil and Guarda Municipal respectively. 9SR Considering the two forces together, in 1910 there was one policeman for every 144 inhabitants. These figures demonstrate that the change was essentially in the balance between police forces, since the number of population per policeman remained more or less stable throughout the whole period. There must, however, be caution when examining these numbers. Overall the city’s population must have felt an increasing presence of the police in their everyday life, since Policia Civil, which saw its ratio per inhabitant decrease, had a much more active and wider mandate than Guarda Municipal; this is documented in almost every chapter of this thesis but will be more fully addressed in the last.

258 The population figures for this are taken from the census of 1911. 139 Graphic 3- Evolution of Policia Civil and Guarda Municipal manpower, 1870-1910.

1800

1600

1400

1200

1000 •Policia Civil 800 •Guarda Municpal 600

400

200

OfM^lOCOOlN^tlDOOO rvj^r^cnrHmLnr^cn r''r'-r'-r'-r''OOooooooooco C'lC'iCTiO'lOOOOO

Source: Official Government Budget and Actas das Sessdes da Junta Geral do Distrito de Lisboa (Lisbon: Typ. Universal 1885-1887).

Turning now to the internal allocation of human resources within Policia Civil,

Table 2 shows the distribution of the men across the three divisions created in August

1893. The dominance of Public Safety is overwhelmingly evident. The Administrative

Police and the Criminal Investigation branch went through different processes from

1893 onwards. The former was rapidly made dependent upon men from Public Safety - the opening of a police station at the town hall, in the 1890s with the function of food inspection is the clearest sign of this -, and remained only with a very small core of inspectors headed by the Policia Civil’s former General Commissioner, C. Morais

Sarmento. The latter maintained a stable, albeit small, number of detectives that, as will be seen later in this chapter, gained public prominence by the end of the century. The numbers should be handled carefully. They give a more formal and basic indication of police services than an exact depiction of where the men were working. For example, some correspondence between Lisbon’s Civil Government and the Ministry of Interior shows that there were in fact 70 policemen assigned to the Administrative Police branch in 1906, distributed between prostitute registration and inspection, foreigner

140 registration, the overseeing of weights and measures and other retail regulations (the 95Q varejo), automobiles or milk, for example. These were specific services in this branch; others, like the overseeing of the bylaw code, were performed at the station level by public safety personnel. A very different situation occurred with the Criminal

Investigation branch. Whereas administrative police tasks were normally handled at the station level, i.e. a guard assigned to an administrative police task would remain in his station, in the case of criminal investigation the temporary assignment to the Criminal

Investigation represented a move away from the station to the police headquarters.

Moreover, the Criminal Investigation branch routinely resorted to paid informers, thus 9 fin providing further strength to its services. One of the consequences of this was that from the 1890s onwards Criminal Investigation began to establish itself as a markedly different police sphere. The approval of a new general regulation for the services of criminal investigation in 1902 was a watershed. 9fi1 Although there were autonomous regulations in 1893/1894, they were all approved at one time and though independent, were pieces of the same whole. Minor reforms in subsequent years (1896 and 1898) followed this pattern. The 1902 law not only stopped this practice - approving only a laws for the Criminal Investigation branch - but also extended the power of the branch to more types of crime and, more importantly, gave it powers covering the whole

Portuguese continental territory and not only Lisbon. This process will be addressed in more detail in the last part of the chapter.

259 ADL-GCL, NT879 NR47; Policemen partially physically disabled were normally assigned to some of these services. 260 It is very difficult to find empirical evidence of the identification and number of paid informers since they were paid with ‘preventive police’ monies and the Ministry balance books describe these payments just as ‘preventive police payments’ See IAN/TT-MR, Contabilidade, Liv.497. 261 Decree of 19-09-1902, Diario do Govemo, N°214, 23-09-1902.

141 Table 2 - Manpower by branch in Policia Civil

Public Safety Administrative Criminal Investigation Police 1896 894 32 30 1900 1252 4 28 1905 1545 4 29 1910 1547 4 28 Source: State Budget of the respective years

Who joined and made their career in the Policia Civill The social portrait of the men that patrolled the winding streets of Lisbon day and night was not very different from the one seen in many other European cities. The second half of 1867 was passed with Civil Governors writing the regulations of Policia Civil and mapping the territory by dividing it into esquadras. But they were also recruiting the men who would start performing their beats in January 1868. By then, the news of the creation of a new police force spread fast and, as officials in the Interior Ministry noted, ‘people from places far from the capital have flocked to enlist in Policia Civil". 9fi9 After this first recruitment process, the new police force would eventually be comprised of some of these individuals, men from the municipal body of overseers (. zeladores) extinguished on that occasion, and also some telegraph boys ( boletineiros ) who had been dismissed from the postal service.263

Besides the ‘stability factor’, the number and willingness of men available to be recruited was directly associated with the economic cycles of the labour market in the following decades. While at the end of the 1860s, the country was going through an economic (and also political and social) crisis which meant that the number of men willing to work in the police was more than enough to cover the available places, a few years later, in the second half of the 1870s, economic growth (and political stability)

262 IAN/TT-MR, Lv. 1687, fl.195. 263 IAN/TT-MR, M?.3049, L°17, N°567.

142 caused not only the labour market to grow but also wages to increase. ThisOfiA change had immediate effects on policemen recruitment. One of the main goals of the 1876 reform was to increase the number of policemen, a measure that started to be discussed in the Ministry of Interior immediately after the creation of Policia Civil and was a subject of constant complaints from the general commissioner in the first half of the

1870s. One thing that the reform did not propose was a wage increase. The results of this flaw were immediately visible. In the following year, 1877, when the Minister recognised his error and went to Parliament to request permission to increase the wages, he claimed that no candidates appeared for the new opened jobs ‘despite repeated advertisements posted in the newspapers’, and the police were unable to replace fifteen

9 fift vacant places. The wages were raised for all ranks in the police structure and in the following decade there is no record of significant difficulties to recruit new men in the police.9 fn Despite the economic environment and some difficulties in the labour market, it was in this period that, with the help of the then expanding railways, the interior/rural

- coastline/urban migratory flow began to reach significant proportions. Therefore, there were always enough individuals willing to get a secure (if not well paid) job in the city even though there were more attractive jobs in Lisbon’s labour market.

The recruitment of new men to the force always remained dependent on the applicants’ individual show of will to join the force. It appears that this process was independent from any kind of political patronage; the frequent advertisement in

264 Conceifao Andrade Martins ‘Trabalho e condi9oes de vida em Portugal (1850-1913)’ in Analise Social, 1997, Vol.XXXII(147), pp.483-535 (pp.500-510). 265 Corpo de Policia Civil de Lisboa, Mapas Estatisticos (Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional, 1873), p.l. 266 DCD, 02-03-1877, p.485. The Minister also stressed that this difficulty was specific to Lisbon, since all new posts were filled in Oporto. It is worth noting that Lisbon’s economy was experiencing its first effective wave of industrialisation in this period and the effects of the 1876 crisis were not immediately visible, see David Justino, A Formagao do Espago Economico Nacional, Portugal 1810-1913 (Lisbon: Vega, 1988-1989), Vol.II, pp.87-90. The link between economic conditions and the motivation to joined the police and the periodic problems in recruiting new men were common problems in the police, see Clive Emsley & Mark Clapson ‘Recruiting the English policeman c. 1840-1940’ in Policing and Society, 1994, vol.3, pp.269-286 (p.270). 267 Law of 06-05-1878 in DG, N o l0 3 ,13-05-1878 .

143 Lisbon’s daily press - and it is significant that it was just advertised in Lisbon press - throughout the 1900s shows that authorities had to rely on recruitment strategies other than patronage.268 The deep financial and economic crisis at the close of the century showed some signs of recovery in the early years of 1900 before being overshadowed however by the political turbulence that ended in the Republican Revolution; the threat of prolonged unemployment stopped men from leaving the force and lessened the need for recruitment, while the migratory flow that was peaking by this time guaranteed there were enough men available. Even with increased political instability of the 1900s there were no signs of recruitment difficulties. It is worth noting, however, that the same was not true of the city’s other police force. The recruitment process for the Guarda

Municipal was limited to military units, hence the Commandant’s complaint in a private letter to a friend on the eve of the 1910 Republican revolution that the increased turnover and the difficulty in recruiting new men was due to a bad public image and hard work associated with long periods on prevention service. 270

The men who joined Policia Civil - and though obvious it must be stressed that in fact only men were enlisted - were more likely to join the force in their twenties

(more exactly 23-32 years). They were young, mainly unmarried adults that were expected to marry when they were already settled in a secure job. Like most urban police forces in Europe in this period, Lisbon’s policemen originated from rural areas.

According to the data collected by Maria Joao Vaz only 8.2% of the new recruits between 1875 and 1906 had been bom in the Lisbon district, and even they had been

268 For the bills of the ads see IAN/TT-MR, Contabilidade, Mg.4376. 269 Maria Joao Vaz studied the personal files of the men that joinedPolicia Civil in the late nineteenth/early twentieth century. The peaks of admissions were 1896 and 1902 with slightly more than 140 men in each year. The closest to these years was 1903 with almost 80 new admissions. When we recall the overall growth of the police force, it is clear that these new admissions served mainly to accomplish a projected growth and not to cover dismissals or voluntary retirement, see Maria Joao Vaz ‘Prevenir o Crime: o corpo da Policia Civil de Lisboa’ in Ler Historia, 2007,vol.53, pp.9-46(p.28). 270 Jose Lopes Dias, O Coronel Malaquias de Lemos e a Revolugao de 5 de Outubro (Novos Documentos), (Lisbon: Imperio, 1964), p.58-59. 144 bom mainly in its rural municipalities. Despite the high percentage of non-naturals living in the Lisbon at this time - circa 35% - the police recruits accentuated even more the rural background of the population living in the city. Probably to a greater extent than in Europe during this period, men in Policia Civil tended to have long professional careers (20 to 30 years), and only a small minority (3.8%) did not complete at least 10 years of service .271 Started only in the 1860s, the Policia Civil seemed to have avoided the early periods of high turnover witnessed in Europe in the early nineteenth century.

In the 1860s, police careers generally stabilised .272 Overall, long careers were common from the outset and experience was valued by the institution. In 1889, for example, after a sergeant had died, an internal tender was launched to promote one guard to the existing vacancy. The requirements to be eligible included the following: 10 years of experience; at some point of their careers had been temporarily appointed to the rank of sergeant; had been assigned to the special services of judiciary police, public health, or civil governor/commissioners batman .273 At the start of the 1890s, extensive experience in time and service was already common in Lisbon’s police; note that this was a procedure to promote one man from the bottom of the hierarchy to the next rank. Like many other European cities, a large majority of the men (65%) never progressed from the bottom of the hierarchy .274 The maximum that they could eventually aspire was the post of station chief, which only a tiny minority effectively achieved. The top of the hierarchy - General Commissioner and Commissioners until 1893 and General

Commandant and Officers thereafter - was occupied by law graduates directly

271 Vaz, Prevenir o Crime, p.30. 272 For England see Haia Shapyer Makov, ‘Job stability and career opportunities in the work-life history of policemen in Victorian and Edwardian England’, in David Mitch, et al.,Origins of the modern career (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004), pp. 101-125. 273 IAN/TT-APCL, NT225 NP087, DO N.190, 09-07-1889, N.I. 274 Vaz, Prevenir o Crime, p.33.

145 appointed to those posts until 1893 and subsequently entirely by military officers appointed directly to those posts.

As was noted in the chapter on the creation ofPolicia Civil, one of the political objectives for its formation was to have professional policemen that were neither soldiers nor unpaid, voluntary members of the community. The salary would ensure that men were employed in the police on a full-time basis. In the Portuguese context where the salary is established in the law, the policemen can be classified in the rank of semi­ skilled workers .275 The economic crisis of the 1890s further devalued the salaries creating more livelihood difficulties for policemen. In September 1890, at the peak of tension between the police and part of the population and a few days after the police having killed a man, the republican newspaper O Seculo claimed that police wages were not enough to maintain a household respectably .276 The ‘wages issue’ highlights two major characteristics of the police as a thick ‘relational ground’: firstly, it was not an issue restricted to the ‘work sphere’ but theoretically interfered with the private sphere of policemen’s domestic life; and secondly it shows that formal rules were subjected daily to negotiation within the police force. Let us begin with this second aspect. The persistence of second, part-time jobs among Lisbon’s policemen was constant all through the period under study here. Probably as a result of the crisis that had broken out during the previous year, in 1877 some members of the police sent a petition to parliament requesting either that they were given the status of Attached Staff, which would allow them to have other part-time jobs, or to be given a subsidy to survive .277

Although apparently nothing came of this petition, it is a clue that some police already had second, part-time jobs. In reference to something that happened three decades later,

275 David Justino, Pregos e salarios em Portugal (1850-1912) (Lisbon: Banco de Portugal, 1990), pp.15- 18. 276 O Seculo, 21-09-1890. 277 DCD, 03-02-1877, pp.233-234.

146 Aquilino Ribeiro remembered from the time he was detained in a police station in

1907/1908 that one policeman hurried to go to his second job as shoemaker .278

At first glance this can clearly be termed a ‘problem’ for the police leaders.

However, a closer look at some disciplinary cases narrated in the daily orders unveils a much more complex subject that involved internal tensions, conflicts and negotiation.

Four cases occurred during the 1880s that testify to this dynamic. In 1885, a police constable was expelled from the force for ‘living with a prostitute, owner of [a legal] brothel and having the house of the same woman in his name, in which he is repeatedly joined in carousing and revelry by individuals of wrongdoing ’.279 In March 1888, a policeman was expelled because it had ‘been proven that he arbitrarily arrested a woman that [was] his servant, and for having a vegetable stall, which [was] expressly prohibited by the Regulation ’.280 In 1889 a policeman was punished with two additional shifts for running a pub on behalf of its owner, ‘when it [was] known that the place 9R1 [was] frequented by people of bad reputation’. Part-time jobs were only a problem when these were accompanied with hierarchical insubordination or when the part-time jobs collided directly with what was supposed to be subject to police surveillance. The latter could mean illegal activities, like running a brothel, or those which, though not illegal, were directly under police surveillance, e.g. having a stall in main city market.

Although the police represented a secure job for working-class men, the income it provided could hardly provided sufficient resources to maintain their households. In periods of economic crisis, particularly in the 1890s, and with the disadvantage of seeing their wives prohibited from having a formal job men had to combine more than one form of income and resort to other ways of maintaining a stable household. In

278 Aquilo Ribeiro, Um Escritor Confessa-se, pp.229-230. The number of shoemakers that joined the police was considerable, see Vaz, ‘Prevenir’, p.38. 279 IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NP082, DO N.123, 03-05-1885, P.2. 280 IAN/TT-APCL, NT222 NP085, DO N.70, 10-03-1888, P.2. 281 IAN/TT-APCL, NT225 NP087, DO N.83,24-03-1889, P.3. 147 Lisbon at the end of the nineteenth century, though policemen were poorly paid, they had a stable job which was particularly important during the harsh economic times experienced by the working classes. In terms of household income there were two main drawbacks: as in other European urban police forces, policemen’s wives were prohibited from working outside the home and policemen were forbidden to buy on credit or request loans, which meant they were unable to resort to pawnbrokers or buy goods in grocery shops on credit - both central strategies in working-class domestic economy .282 In the deep economic crisis of the 1890s, the economic conditions of the policemen were deteriorating. While the salaries were not raised, the Civil Government of Oporto, created a scheme in 1892 whereby policemen could borrow money directly from the force, repaying it at a very low interest rate .283 It is very probable that the same type of scheme was also created in Lisbon. More strategies were devised to improve and protect policemen’s living conditions.

The policies concerning the police workforce were, in general, aimed at providing greater security to the men and their families. In the police reform of 1876, for example, a pension scheme was established that became central in the following years. But although the pensions fund was an obligation imposed by the institution and financed through a monthly contribution from the worker deducted from his salary, voluntary forms of policemen’s association also emerged at the end of the century. ORA

Following a common trend in the Portuguese working class movement, in November

1895 the Associagao de Socorros Mutuos do Corpo de Policia Civil de Lisboa was

282 Policia Civil General Regulation, 21-12-1876, Art.° 41° N°4. 283 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.2873, L°42, N°850. 284 The pensions fund established in 1876 was financed through a 2% contribution from the policemen’s month salary and part of the money collected from the fines imposed by the police under the municipal bylaws code and other police regulations. The policeman would receive, if judged incapable for the job, a third of the salary after 5 years in the force, two thirds after ten years and full salary after fifteen years. Although there are no studies on this subject, it can be said that it was fairly uncommon that working- class men had access to a pension’s funds established by the employer, see Policia Civil General Regulation, 21-12-1876, Chapter X.

148 formed which was a mutual society exclusive to the members of the police and their families.285 Contrary to the law that regulated the mutual associations - stating that each society should have a maximum of 500 members - in 1898 the society had 744

rs o / ' associates when the police employed 1293 men. The association provided health care, including sea-bathing and trips to enjoy countryside air (uso d ’ares de campo), and paid funeral expenses for which a hearse had been bought with money collected in a police internal subscription.

The social characteristics of Lisbon’s policemen and the working conditions they encountered in their work environment lead to a clear conclusion: although the institutional and working conditions changes introduced from the 1860s improved the policeman’s lot, the great majority in the police force could correctly be classified as working-class. This assumption is hardly surprising; indeed, it follows a pattern indentified throughout many other European countries. What is essential to understand in the ‘position’ of the policeman in Lisbon’s society is that these working-class men had incomparably greater power than almost any other group of the lower stratum of society. Even if they belonged to a hierarchical institution in which the ones at the top were certainly not working-class, and ultimately they ‘just followed orders’, they had a degree of power and authority that frequently clashed with higher stratum of society in everyday relationships. One example of this leads us to a fiercely debated recruitment condition for policemen during the 1860s: literacy. Policemen had to be able to write and read. Although evidence form the first recruits in Oporto in 1867 suggests that some of the first men that joined the force were not able to write or read, the development of

285 Estatutos da Associagao de Socorros Mutuos do Corpo de Policia Civil de Lisboa (Lisbon: Casa Portuguesa, 1896). 286 Associagao de Socorros Mutuos do Corpo de Policia Civil de Lisboa, Relatdrio e Contas do ano de 1899, Lisbon: Casa Portuguesa, 1900, p.4. This is the association’s annual report which was found for 1900 and 1903. For an analysis the mutual aid movement in Portugal, see Miriam Halpern Pereira ‘Mutualismo e a origem do seguro social’ in Maria Joao Vaz, et. al. (Eds),Exclusao na Historia (Oeiras: Celta 2000), pp.201-213.

149 police work in the following decades made it virtually impossible to be a policeman without being literate. 287 Yet it was one thing was to manage the basics of writing, reading and counting, but quite another to do so by the higher standards of elites and middle classes. When the most popular Lisbon cartoon magazine criticised the growing police press censorship in 1902, by making fun of the policeman’s bad calligraphy and grammar errors, reproducing the police forces’s message when it seized one of the magazine’s issues, it was not only criticising police censorship but also revealing the social and cultural distances between working-class policemen and middle-class journalists and, implicitly, the paradoxical power of an inferior class over them

(Illustration 8 , at the bottom of the image).

287 Maria Jose Moutinho Santos ‘A introdu^o da policia civil em Portugal: entre projectos e realidades, os equfvocos de uma polftica de seguran^a’ in Tiago Marques & Pedro T. Almeida (Eds)Lei e Ordem. Justiga Penal, Criminalidade e Policia. Seculos XIX - XX (Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 2006), pp.131-145. Illustration 8: Cartoon mocking with policemen's writing skills in 1902.

PRECO DA ADMHtlBTHADOR -sowziGft fcolti A 4iaini.tr.cio — R. UO GHEUIO LUZTT/VNO, So,

'••V

Source: A Parodia, N°154, 24-12-1902

4.2. Police leaders: cosmopolitanism, military culture and court experience.

As ‘groups’ of men, police forces were socially and culturally diverse entities, as hierarchically-structured organisations they were embedded in power relations. The conjunction of these characteristics indelibly helped mould the modern development of

151 urban police forces. After seeing the social ‘portrait’ of Lisbon’s policeman, this chapter now turns to the other end of the police hierarchical structure in order to identify some of the diversity that decisively affected the development of Policia Civil. By examining the biographies of the three most significant police leaders in the period under study,

Cristovao Morais Sarmento (General Commissioner of the police between 1876 and

1893 and Director of Administrative Police until his death in 1906), Jose Antonio

Morais Sarmento (General Commandant between 1893 and 19 1 0)288, and, Francisco

Maria da Veiga (the head of the Criminal Investigation branch between the end of

August 1893 and 1907), the aim is to assess the opposition between the social and cultural background of police leaders and the rank and file seen above. The necessarily brief biographical sketch of these three Policia Civil figures allows us to emphasise the social and cultural heterogeneity within the police organisation with significant effects in the power relations within them; and, secondly, to demonstrate how the development of police institutions and policing strategies reflected the biographical experiences of the individuals acting within these organisations. Different types of police leadership emerge which, with some nuances, were already identified in institutional terms.

However, the civilian, military and magistracy categories can now be indentified in the individuals at the top of the police hierarchy. The representation of these three distinct kinds of official is central to the whole story, as their actions influenced the development of the police as an institution and how policing was performed.

Although nineteenth century police forces did not develop in a vacuum and were influenced by previous forms of police, the ‘invention’ of new patterns of police organisational frameworks was a key process in police reform during this period. The appointment of police leaders was vital in this context. The example of the selection of

288 Despite the name they were not related.

152 the first commissioners of the Metropolitan police in London is illustrative of the political and organisational factors that marked the scenario in many other European

countries. The selection of a barrister, Richard Mayne, and an army officer, Charles

Rowan, as the first commissioners of the metropolis in 1829 expressed the unsteady balance between a liberal will of the rule of law and a pragmatic recognition that the military organisation and culture was the only means available to discipline a large body of working-class men.

D. Diogo de Sousa was the first General Commissioner of Policia Civil who

stayed long enough in the post to leave his mark on the organisation; he illustrates the lack of tradition in appointing police leaders in that he came from the army, and when he finally left in 1876 was appointed to a well-remunerated post at the Customs

(Alfandega).289 The appointment of Cristovao Pedro de Morais Sarmento as General

Commissioner in the wake of the ongoing police reform that same year was due in part to his family background, more importantly to the fact he had been police commissioner since 1867 and therefore already had experience on the job.

Cristovao Morais Sarmento was bom in London on January 3, 1837 and was the son of Cristovao Pedro Morais Sarmento, Portuguese ambassador in London at the time, and his wife Amalia Jordan. His father was an important figure in Portuguese diplomacy and was subsequently appointed to another central European capital, Vienna, where the family moved. After this appointment, the family went back to London where his father eventually died in 1851. Part of the family remained in England, but

Cristovao returned to Lisbon where he concluded school before going to Coimbra - one of the oldest universities in Europe - where he studied Law. In 1860, after graduating at

289 The first Commissioner of the Policia Civil, Antonio Maria Cau da Costa, was rapidly substituted by Diogo de Sousa, appointed on 12 December 1867. In February 1870 he left Policia Civil for a post in the railways company, but returned just a few months later in May 1870, when his successor, army officer Luis Waddington was discharged from duty for political reasons.

153 the age of 23, he looked for job. A small biographical piece published in 1908 after his death in the seven volume Gallery of Famous Criminals hints that he did not wish to pursue advocacy or a judicial career. In a rather strange development for a man with his background, he worked as a simple clerk in a railway company in the first half of the

1860s. The creation in 1867 of the Policia Civil provided a good chance to leave the

‘sedentary life’ of a simple clerk in favour of one that would constantly occupy his mind thanks to the ‘diversity of cases’ and occurrences in the everyday-life of the police force.290 C. Morais Sarmento continued to be linked with England as several members of the family remained in Britain, during the second half of the century and early twentieth-century. Notably, in 1856 his older sister married Albert George Sandeman - the wine merchant and governor of the Bank of England between 1895 and 1897.291

During his years in the police, he expressed the belief that the police force was a process in time rather than just a construct from above .292 Although not a public figure in Lisbon society like Sir Richard Mayne and the Prefet Lepine were in London and

Paris, he was recognised by the political elite, top state-bureaucrats and press by his knowledge, expertise and experience in policing matters. Writing in the 1940s, a police officer noted that although the 1876 police reform came to be known as the work of a well known politician, by then Minister of Interior, Rodrigues Sampaio, the reform - in force outside Lisbon and Porto until the 1910s - was in fact the result of the work of C.

290 Galeria de Criminosos Celebres, Vol.VII, 1908, p.34. 291 The whole family lineage in http://www.geneall.net/P/per page.php?id=64684 [accessed in 05-04- 2012]. 292 In September of 1891 he introduced the rules and put into practice the exams for post promotion to which men could concur voluntarily. He justified, in a daily order, the vagueness of the dispositions contained in the General Regulation of 1876 and the infectiveness of them with the fact that the force was until then in its ‘infancy’. Now ‘more than twenty years since its creation, the learning [process of ‘doing’ the organisation] is made and is now urgent to make this force strong through the dedication to the job’. The favouring of meritocracy through examination practices would thus, in theory, enable just the men with ‘love’ for the job to ascend in small Policia Civil career ladder. The results of these applications began to appear in the daily orders from then on, see IAN/TT-APCL, NT227 NP088, DO N.266, 23-09- 1891, P.7.

154 'J Q '2 Morais Sarmento, ‘the great specialist on the subject’. The same would be noted about the 1893 police reform. When he died in September 1906, the newspapers recognised this expertise noting the great number of books he possessed about police in

Europe.294 His colleagues would later recall him as a ‘scholarly man, very interested in 9QS police life’. His autonomy in the management of the police force and in devising public safety policies is an issue that must be addressed here. Although further research still needs to be done on this matter, particularly regarding the relationships between C.

Morais Sarmento and the numerous Civil Governors that occupied the post throughout the period, the impression from the correspondence in the Interior Ministry is that - apart from situations of public order / safety crisis or more acute periods of public criticism of the police - he had substantial autonomy managing the force and his voice was heard when police matters were being discussed in high government spheres.

Significantly enough, the only prominent political leader who attended Sarmento’s funeral in 1906 was Joao Franco, the minister responsible for the great reform of 1893.

His foreign upbringing and family connections abroad raise the question of how far this experience impacted his work as police commissioner. One blatant example of this influence was the way C. Morais Sarmento conducted police affairs in 1882 when the need to increase the number of policemen in the city was becoming more acute. It was not unusual to see the police commissioners, commandants of the Guarda

Municipal or civil governors demanding more men, but the existence of C. Morais

Sarmento’s report in the Ministry of Interior archive is a sign of the subject’s urgency and importance. Normally, the General Commissioner would write to the Civil

293 Armando Ribeiro, Subsidios para a Histdria da Localizagao das Esquadras da Policia de Lisboa (Lisbon: Tip. Severo Freitas, 19[?]), p. 10. 294 DN, 27-09-1906, P.2. About Richard Mayne and the Metropolitan Police see Philip Thurmond Smith, Policing Victorian London: Political Policing, Public Order, and the London Metropolitan Police (Westport: Greenwood Press, 1985), Chapter 2; About the Prefet Lepine see Jean-Marc Berliere, Le Prefet Lepine: Vers La Naissance de la police moderne, (Paris: Denoel, 1993). 295 Galeria de Criminosos Celebres, Vol.VII, 1908, p.35. 155 Governor who would then write a letter or speak directly with the minister. At end of

April 1882, however, C. Morais Sarmento’s opinions were directly discussed in the

Ministry after it had already rejected the Civil Governor’s suggestion to increase the number of men in the previous month. The Policia Civil's General Commissioner began his report in these terms: ‘A few years ago, the press of London was complaining almost on a daily basis about the great difficulty of finding a police officer on the occasions when they were most needed, despite the total number of ostensible agents [in the

Metropolitan Police] being 11,000’. He proceeds: ‘similar complaints and claims appear often in our press with reference to the police of Lisbon, and the truth obliges me to say to Your Excellency that, unfortunately, in most cases, these complaints are reasonable’.

According to C. Morais Sarmento, the answer to the complaints of the press in London was an increase in the number of men, whose police currently has twelve thousand or so of ostensible agents, and it was determined (...) to settle in the main places of the city police points, where constantly, day and night, an agent is available to anyone who needs his help’. In London, ‘through the press and notices posted in public places, it gradually became known where the many points were where a police officer could be found with certainty and easily.” He concluded, “I am convinced that this situation [of not having enough policemen] would be largely remedied if we adopted the system followed in London’. Attached to this reports was a list of 33 places in Lisbon, the main thoroughfares in the city centre, where guards should be placed .296 At least from 1891 onwards, but almost certainly in practice before, the strategy of ‘fixed beats' (patrulhas permentes) - i.e. guards assigned to stay in the same place for the whole period of the shift, normally on streets comers in the city centre - emerged as a common policing

296 IAN/TT-MR, Ms.4961, L°32, N°21.

156 practice.297 This strategy resembled that of the Municipal stations where one guard

stayed the entire duration of his shift. But there was a substantial difference. The

Municipal guards were normally ‘armed as if they would go for war’ and would normally only leave their stations if there were disturbances. The Policia Civil were perceived as more mobile and requested for other non-criminal, petty non-public order tasks, as will be examined in the last chapter.

It would be a misrepresentation of the facts to attribute the growth of the number of men in Policia Civil to C. Morais Sarmento’s persuasive arguments. But just as the foreign example was a potent argument during the institutional reform in the 1860s, it also influenced the organisational development in the following decades. C. Morais

Sarmento was in a key position for a long period of time and actively used his knowledge of international practice to try to influence the ways the police institution and policing methods were shaped. His English education and his character shaped by the land where ‘time is money’ were noted after his death by some of the men who had worked with him, as was his frequent use of London as a policing role model .298 C.

Morais Sarmento’s biography and career is a contribution to the growing discussions within police historiography on the circulation of police models or police knowledge - normally in the European context but it has been explored in other frameworks such as the North American, Latin America or the colonial context. In the twentieth century, this circulation would take the form of transnational police institution or international police study missions. Because these international links were more tenuous or the information channels were less formal in the nineteenth-century (as seen above in the case of the press), still little is known about how the developments in one country influenced change in others. But indeed these exchanges happened.

297 IAN/TT-APCL, NT226 NP088, DO N .16,17-01-1891, N.7. Order which contains the specific places where policemen should stay during their beats. 298 In English in the original, Galeria de Criminosos Celebres, Vol. VII, 1908, p.35. 157 The case of C. Morais Sarmento helps understand how cosmopolitanism - i.e. the growing transnational links of individuals and institutions and the solutions conceived for certain problems beyond the frame of the ethnocentric nation-state - helped the shape of police and policing in the European context. When addressing the emergence of international crime in mid-nineteenth century, Paul Knepper recently suggested that the revolutionary change introduced by railways, which brought about a

‘radical shift in behaviour and mentality’, resulted in ‘inklings of globalisation’, which affected the development of police systems and policing methods in Europe and beyond, among other things. However, the question here is not how increased mobility originated new types of ‘internationalised’ crimes, but how increased mobility (of people and information) produced new experiences, knowledge and interactions with

‘the other’; in this case the other perceived as more ‘developed’ and ‘civilised’. C.

Morais Sarmento is a prominent example - but not an exception - that shows ‘how internationalism became a way of understanding problems and a guide to action’ in police reform and modernisation in Portugal during the nineteenth-century .299

In September 1893 Cristovao Morais Sarmento was appointed to direct the

Administrative Police when two other ‘heads’ were added to the police body. Jose

Antonio Morais Sarmento was appointed ‘General Commandant’ - no longer

‘Commissioner’ - of the Public Safety branch, and although the others were not subordinate to him, he had more power since the great majority of police human resources were under his direct command .300 It is no coincidence that an army officer had been appointed to head of Lisbon’s police service at a time when number of policemen had started to grow and would continue in the following years. The

299 Paul Knepper The Invention of International Crime: a global issue in the making 1881-1914, (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2009), first citation p.3, second p.6. 300 Montalvao Machado ‘O ultimo comandante da policia de Lisboa no tempo da monarquia’,Olisipo, 1962, vol.99, pp.3-16.

158 appointment of an army officer to the ‘civil’ police was justified with the argument that the military were more suitable to lead and direct ‘groups of men’; this also served to counter the claim that this militarisation of the police would endanger citizens’ rights .301

Jose Antonio Morais Sarmento was bom into an apparently a middle-class family on 25th March 1848 in Torre de D. Chama, a municipality of Mirandela in

Braganga district; he died on 8 th January 1918 in Lisbon. In deep contrast with his predecessor in the police, he was bom and brought up in the northern rural interior north and he also served in his military career in the nearby garrison of Chaves .302 As an army officer, he was educated and made a career in military regiments in the north of the country. For some periods, he taught in the officers’ training course. The first experience of J. A. Morais Sarmento with the police service came in 1888 when he was put in charge of Oporto’s unit of the Fiscal Guard. Here he became known for the strategy used to control the attempted republican revolution in January 1891. Although there is no known empirical evidence testifying to it, it is probable that his appointment to Lisbon police came as recognition and a reward for good services to the Monarchy in

January 1891. Thus, the more immediate cause for the appointment of an army officer to police leadership in 1893 was the circumstantial turbulent times that the city had been witnessing - the British Ultimatum, the failed Republican revolution in Oporto and the financial crisis that led the state to declare the partial bankruptcy - rather than a clear change in the policy on the nature of police institutions. Nevertheless, it carried the symbolic weight of a despotic form of police as opposed to a more liberal one represented by individuals with law degrees and it did not go unnoticed at the time in

301 Reforma dos Servigos Policiais de Lisboa de 28-08-1893, Preamble. 302 AHM, Cx.3394.

159 the foreign press and would mark the political life of Joao Franco for the following decades.303

Unlike the Guarda Municipal where no Commandant until the early twentieth century remained in the post for more than 10 years, but similarly to his predecessor, J.

A. Morais Sarmento continued as General Commandant of Policia Civil for a long period, between 1893 and 1910.304 What differences were felt within Policia Civil with the change from a civilian to military leadership? It is probably impossible to find an objective aspect to measure the changes, but some differences and continuities can be discerned. There was much criticism of the lack of discipline within the police before

1893, but the fact that police could accommodate hundreds of new men thereafter without these problems worsening is sheer testimony of the hierarchical and disciplinary military ethos had affected the internal functioning of the police. But there was also a degree of continuity. In a lengthy statement in a daily order in 1898, a conceptualization of the police mandate and how it should be enforced was devised and made known to the whole force. As will be seen in the last chapter of this thesis, this order shows how the new military leaders in many respects emulated the type of discourse of their civilian predecessors.

In personal terms, J.A. Morais Sarmento’s appointment to thePolicia Civil and relocation to Lisbon proved a deep life change. He had married Ana da Piedade dos

Reis Teixeira in 1870 who had been in Chaves where Jose Antonio was serving.

Between July 1872 and September 1874 they had five children, three boys and two girls. Though no precise date is known, it is certain that when he relocated to Lisbon in

August 1893 he had already been widowed. Exactly ten years moving to Lisbon, in

August 1903, he asked the Military authorities permission to marry Mariana Filomena

303 The Times, 31-08-1893. 304 Francisco Azevedo Duas Palavras ou alguns elementos para a historia das Guardas Municipals, (Lisbon: Typographia da Guarda Municipal de Lisboa, 1898), pp.23-24. 160 -1A C Vaz Guedes Pinto Bacelar, a woman from an aristocratic family. From a small garrison town in the interior of the country and a middle-rank post in the military hierarchy, J. A. Morais Samento had reached the elite salons of the capital city, and was integrating in the social and economic elite of the country. Although heading the police did not provide a great income, it carried a symbolic status essential to social mobility.

Finally, the last of the police leaders to be considered here: Judge Veiga. While the ‘militarisation’ of police leaders was probably the most significant aspect of the

1893 police reform, the appointment of Judge Veiga to lead the Criminal Investigation and Preventive Police branch resulted from an intention to counter-balance this strategy: the entrance of the military was accompanied by the ‘judicialisation’ of one of the most prominent parts of police work. Judge Veiga and his ‘Criminal Instruction Court’ [Juizo de Instrugao Criminal] and the law against ‘social crimes’ issued in 13 February of

1896 became paradigmatic symbols of the repressive nature of the regime for the

o A /r opposers of the monarchy in the last two decades of the regime. Moreover, the perceived or real growing vigilance and censorship of the press was another paramount

OAT symbol of the Criminal Instruction Court action. Although this is an issue that deserves more research, the appointment of a magistrate not only to judge - to ‘instruct’ criminal cases - but to direct the criminal investigation services had a dual propose: it served to provide police with some of the imagery of independence of the magistracy and justice, thus trying to divert the debate from the possibility of political control of the police; but, secondly, it also served to give the magistracy co-responsibility in police

305AHM, Cx.3394. 306 Jose de Castro O Maior Crime do Regimen: o juizo d'instrucqao criminal, (Lisboa: Typ. La Becarre 1910). Campaigns against the laws and the Criminal Investigation branch were set in in 1898, 1900 and 1904/5 see Antonio Ventura, Anarquistas, Republicanos e Socialistas em Portugal: as convergencias possiveis (1892-1910), (Lisboa: Edigoes Cosmos, 2000) pp.149-153 307 Compared with the precedent decades the press came increasingly under police scrutiny, but censorship practices never attained the level of effectiveness induced by much of the Republican propaganda, See, Jose Miguel Sardica ‘O poder invisivel: D. Carlos, a Imprensa e a opiniao publica no final da Monarquia ConstitucionaP,Analise Social, 2012, vol. XLVII(203), pp.344-368(p.362).

161 practices.308 Symbolically enough, when the revolution came in 1910, the disbanding of this police division was one of the first measures taken by the provisional government.

Bom in September of 1852 in a small town of the north of Portugal, Judge Veiga studied in the old University of Coimbra like C. Morais Sarmento Veiga; at first, his expenses were paid by his uncle - librarian at the university -, but after his death Viega paid his own way by giving private philosophy and oratory lessons. Unlike C. Morais

Sarmento, Veiga made a career in the judicial system: first as a barrister in small towns of the interior centre of the country, then as public persecutor in Alentejo and finally as a magistrate in lower courts. As magistrate he was first assigned to medium-size town of Algarve and later transferred to Almada (on the other side of the river Tejo just in front of Lisbon) and finally to Lisbon courts in the late 1880s.309 Throughout his career,

Veiga developed a scholarly facet, publishing, works on international law, public prosecution before and after joining the police, and, in collaboration with Trindade

Coelho - a public prosecutor in Lisbon, personal friend and ironically a republican - a widely read proposal for a new penal code.310 Between August 28, 1893 and November

21, 1907 Veiga occupied the post of Judge of Criminal Instruction commanding the branch of Criminal Investigation and Preventive Police of Policia Civil. During this period, he gained many police powers and a significant independence in relation to the rest of the Policia Civil structure. A sign of his power and autonomy is that unlike the other police leaders who had to go through the Civil Governor to reach the government, he (and his successors between 1907 and 1910) corresponded directly with the prime- ministers. Yet, in operational terms - i.e. in the human and material resources made available to him - he always remained dependent on the General Commandant of the

308 Jose Antonio Barreiros ‘Criminalizagao politica e defesa do Estado’,Analise Social, 1982, vol. XVIII (72-73-74), pp.813-828 (p.822). 309 Diario Ilustrado, 04-09-1893. 310 Jose Antonio Barreiros ‘As Instituigoes Criminais em Portugal no Seculo XIX: subsfdios para a sua historia’, Analise Social, 1982, vol. XVI(63), pp.587-612 (p.595). 162 police. In 1907, when he resigned from his post, Veiga created a great public uproar.

The reasons why he did so are still vague, but the discordances with Joao Franco - who had appointed him in 1893 and, after dissent from his party, was back in power in 1906

- about the powers and resources of the branch, the lack of political public protection and the general deterioration of the political situation were probably among the main factors. After resigning, Veiga continued to take interest in police reform (especially that of criminal investigation) and on the eve of the Republican revolution in September

1910, he sent a proposal to the government for the complete separation of the branch from the rest of Policia Civil and its integration in the judiciary apparatus because this would be the best way to guarantee the individual rights of citizens but also because this type of service required men with ‘special skills’, very different from the ones found in

Oil the uniformed police force. After the establishment of the new regime, he continued his career as a magistrate and reached the higher courts until he retired in 1922. He died in Lisbon in 1934.

Veiga became a charismatic figure in Lisbon’s society that is ingrained in the country’s public memory. His smoking pipe with the shape of a naked woman, his flamboyant moustache and sideburns gave him a picturesque touch. Aquilino Ribeiro remembered that when he was being carried away by a policeman after his arrest, he understood ‘by overhearing some of the guards’ conversations (...) that they were taking me to judge Veiga, the famous judge Veiga, the great bogeyman of the republicans, the terror of the anarchists, the procurer of the king, the wrathful and tutelary deity that armed with trident and thunderbolts hung over the Monarchy and the institutions ’.312

Despite these dreadful accolades, the description of the interrogation session that followed depicts a much more serene conversation. In general and despite the harsh and

311 Francisco Veiga, Adiqoes a o Ministerio Publico na primeira instancia (Coimbra: F. Franga Amado, 1914), pp.95-96. 312 Aquilino Ribeiro, Um escritor confessa-se (Lisbon: Bertrand 2008 [1972]), pp.194-198. 163 dark terms that naturally punctuated Veiga and the Criminal Instruction Court’s portrayals, it is also significant that when they remembered him years later they did so in somewhat contradictory terms. Raul Brandao, a journalist and writer, describes:

‘Today I was at the home of Judge Veiga (...) because of a process of the Dia [a newspaper]. (...) Is this the man who knows everything and can do everything; who knows the secrets of families and the secrets of politics. He is omnipotent and omniscient. He commands, it is said, distinguished snitches that no one suspects. He has an unlimited safe at his disposal to distribute money plentifully. (...) He tortures - truth or lie?’. Until here we have the common description. But then: ‘He is a kind of Pina

Manique [Police Intendant in the late eighteenth century], who abuses his place and authority little. Some say he is kind. There are even those who say he is a sort of

Providence. He is undoubtedly a clever man, who protests: - 1 want to leave before this all collapses. These people [the monarchical elite] do not know or do not want how to

o 1 o defend themselves...’. An image ranging between an omnipotent vigilant and a respectful man and, above all, a man sceptic of the course of the political events is more accurate than the one historiography still reproduces of a pillar of the regime. Brandao,

Aquilino Ribeiro314, the republican leader Afonso Costa 315 or Antonio Maria da Silva316, prime minister in 1920s and a carbonari militant before the revolution of 1910, all pictured him in quite similar terms. When Veiga resigned in November 1907, many newspapers, including the republicans’ newspapers, expressed mixed feelings for him.

O Mundo, one of the most prominent and harshest of the republican daily press, stated in response to them: other [judges of criminal instruction] worse [than him] may come

313 Raul Brandao, Memdrias, Vol. I, Lisbon: Relogio de Agua, 2001, pp.112-113. 314 Ribeiro, Um escritor, pp. 194-198, 220-226. 315 Afonso Costa, Discursos proferidos nas sessdes de 13 e 19 de Maio de 1908 na Camara dos Deputados, (Lisbon: Livraria Classica, 1908), p.74. 316 Antonio Maria da Silva, O men depoimento (Lisbon: Grafica Portuguesa, 1974), pp.124-15, 131-132, 180.

164 [,] but his name will not disappear from this fragment of the Portuguese life ’.317 It was

not only his personality but also the conditions of political surveillance and its relation

to the development of the police in this period that explain the paradoxical terms used by the republicans to depict Veiga; this will be discussed in the next and last point of

this chapter.

Finally, the three men portrayed above, who belonged to Policia Civil between the end of 1893 and 1906, must be considered a group, albeit a small one: the police leaders. The longevity that the three attained in their posts and their political and social status are issues that need to be addressed. An additional side of the police reform process in the last decade of the nineteenth-century was its aim to elevate the political and public status of Policia Civil, particularly through its leaders. At the end of

September 1896, C. Morais Sarmento and Veiga were given the status of Royal

Counsellors and J. A. Morais Sarmento appointed the king’s honorary Aid-de-Camp.318

These positions was essentially symbolic and did not correspond to any practical duties or material advantages, but given the recent times of social and political unrest this measure had the effect of tying the police even further to the monarchical regime and elevated the status of its leaders. In controversial issues and overall direction of policing policies, police leaders were also shielded by the power of the Ministers and, mainly of

Civil Governors who, ultimately, had to assume the responsibility for police actions.

This probably explains the longevity of police commissioners in their posts in contrast with the volatility of the position of Civil Governor.319

Overall the biographies of police leaders elaborate the increasingly complex image of police functioning already signalled in the first point of this chapter, when the

317 OMundo, 29-11-1907. 318 Diario de Notfcias, 27-09-1906, p.2; AHM, Box.3394. 319 For the succession of Civil Governors in Lisbon in this period see Jose Tengarrinha (Dir.),Historia do Govemo Civil de Lisboa, (Lisbon: Govemo Civil Lisboa, 2002).

165 rise in the numbers employed as policemen was noted. The cosmopolitanism of C.

Morais Sarmento, the military culture of J. A. Morais Sarmento, or the magistrate’s

career and court experience of Veiga were aspects that show the social and cultural

diversity seen in the police leaders as well as the different social and cultural

backgrounds that helped shape Policia Civil’s organisational culture. A similar pattern

began to be seen among the rest of the police personnel. The presence of Judge Veiga,

in particular, symbolises the prime division between the services: ‘public safety’ and

‘criminal investigation’, and is only one aspect of a larger institutional and cultural transformation. In fact, change was underpinned by two different but interrelated processes: the view that criminal investigation required a degree of expertise and therefore a different type of policeman; and the way in which intellectual endeavours around crime and criminality became apparent in police services and policing methods.

The analysis of this transformation is the main objective of the next and concluding point of this chapter.

4.3. The police detective between ‘scientific criminology’ and political surveillance

In the first point of this chapter it was noted how the three branch divisions introduced by the 1893 reform reflected primarily a division between the uniformed, public safety police men, and the plain-clothes, criminal investigation police. In this last part of the chapter, attention will be focused on the ‘Criminal Investigation and Preventive Police’ branch of the Policia Civil.

European police historiography has adamantly concentrated on the beat patrolman. More recently, the figure of the detective and criminal investigation has emerged in the British case as a specific policing craft but also in other locations as a

166 particular topic of historical examination.320 In the case of the Lisbon police and in terms of policing arrangements, the development of a plain-clothes detective branch expresses the emergence in Portugal of ‘crime’ as a social problem and ‘criminology’ as the science devoted to uncovering its origins rules and devising the best strategies to tackle it. But this was just one part of the police services story. This branch also transmitted the growing fears among the political elite of the threat first of anarchism and then of the republicans. The 1893 reform and the legislation enacted in the following years represented the government’s intention to introduce a stricter system of political surveillance. It is this dual meaning of police functional specialisation and what it represented in terms of the organisational shaping ofPolicia Civil that is the purpose of this final point of the chapter. While general Portuguese historiography has ignored this branch of the police, the few who have referred briefly to it have tended to treat the

‘court of criminal instruction’ - as the criminal investigation police came to be known - in somewhat imprecise terms. Criminal justice historians have seen it as the creation of a new, independent force of criminal investigation and political surveillance.321 On the other hand, political historians have focused on it solely as the political police of the monarchic regime.322 An approach that combines the organisational shaping of the police with an attention to the place and perception of crime in Lisbon society and the increasing pressures for political surveillance helps clarify these discrepancies.

In the late nineteenth century, a number of people had made a career in the police pursuing a ‘police life’.323 Though the majority stayed in the lower layer of the

320 Haia Shpayer-Makov & Clive Emsley (Eds) Police Detectives in History, 1750-1950 (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006); Haia Shpayer-Makov The Ascent of the Detective: Police Sleuths in Victorian and Edwardian England (Oxford: OUP, 2011); Haia Shpayer-Makov ‘Becoming a Police Detective in Victorian and Edwardian London’ in Policing and Society, 2004, vol. 14 (3), pp.250-268. 321 Vaz, ‘Prevenir o crime’, p. 18; Barreiros, ‘Criminalizapao’, p.815. 322 Rui Ramos, D. Carlos, 1863-1908 (Lisbon: Circulo de Leitores, 2006), p.311. 323 IAN/TT-MI, Mq.41, L°62, N°631. A case in which a station chief in Policia Civil of Ponta Delgada (Azores Islands) defends himself against his dismissal using his devoted ‘police life’ as a mitigating argument.

167 hierarchy as patrolmen, some were promoted either in the public safety branch as station chiefs, or progressing to the two other branches and specialising in criminal investigation, food control or building safety inspections. The ‘specialised function / specific group of personnel’ equation was only a formal schema, since the men went routinely back and forth between the three divisions. But as already noted earlier in this chapter, there was a consolidation of a small group of men just devoted to criminal investigation. The three sets of reasons for this development for the growing independence of the criminal investigation branch within Policia Civil will be directly addressed here: firstly, the emergence of scientific identification techniques which emerged outside the police sphere and affected the way it developed; secondly, the increasing public attention on crime, criminals and police detectives directly influenced the emergence of a new type of policeman, and a distancing from the ordinary uniformed man; thirdly, the growing political concerns about anarchism and, to a lesser extent, republicans generated political pressures that could only be dealt with in a more specialised department.

As was already noted in chapter two, the civil government of Lisbon had had a small plain-clothes police force investigating crime since at least the 1850s. Therefore, there had always been a plain-clothes squad in Lisbon specifically responsible for the investigation of crime, unlike in London where all police were in uniform from 1839, a detective department was created in 1842 and the Criminal Investigation Department in

1878, signifying significant organisational change .324 During the 1870s and 1880s, there continued to be a number of agents acting in plain-clothes and performing “secret” surveillance and investigating crimes. They were now part of a larger institution and in the regular police station service, although it is difficult to determine to what extent they

324 Petrow, Policing Morals, 1994, pp.56-60.

168 constituted a separate division. What it is clear is that the ‘high skill’ (fino tacto policial) of catching ‘audacious’ criminals began immediately to be noted and rewarded within the force.325 The distinctiveness of ‘judicial inquiries’, i.e. criminal cases where courts were already involved or expected to be involved soon, which were ‘by their nature more exact and detailed than police or administrative inquiries ’,326 required another kind of more skilled and trained policemen: men that from a thin thread would deduce a rope and find the culprit .327 From the 1880s, the public awareness of crime and the pressures from the press on the police further emphasised the force’s concern with

09 8 cnme and the responses to deal with it. In 1884 the number of men placed in the

0 9 0 service of ‘judiciary police’ was augmented. In the early 1890s, the place of criminal investigation in the interior of the organisation was dubious. However, although it had gained organisational and public symbolic status and more resources were allocated to it over the years, it never left the ‘station level’. Special groups were formed but they were not permanently stable. It was normal for a man who helped in the stray dogs cart in one shift to be placed in the ‘judiciary police’ service in the next .330 Increasingly, it is probable that a small number of men were placed in this service on a more permanent basis. Some of them would later become publicly known in Lisbon society and internally perceived as a select stratum. 331 The institutional reform carried out during

325 IAN/TT-APCL NT215 NP077, DO N.345, 10-12-1876, N.2. This is just one first example, over the years cases of arrest of famous criminals with an explanation of the procedures taken were frequently inserted in the daily orders. 326 IAN/TT-APCL NT215 NP077, DO N.100, 10-04-1877, N.4 327 This is an analogy used widely by policemen in the Gallery of Famous Criminals. 328 See for instance the order where the General Commissioner recommends that he should be warned of every more serious case as soon as possible, IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NP082, DO N.257, 14-09-1881, N.8; and the prohibition to transmit information of the cases to the press, IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NP082, DO N.270, 27-09-1881, N.ll; On the quickness of having all cases immediately known, IAN/TT-APCL, NT218 NP081, DO N.122, 02-05-1882, N.10. 329 IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NP082, DO N.323, 18-11-1884, N.4. 330 See for example, IAN/TT-APCL, NT229 NP091, DO N.293, 19-11-1892, P.9. 331 Ribeiro, Urn Escritor Confessa-se, pp. 199-200, 210-213; Galeria de Criminosos Celebres, 1896, vol. I, p.76, vol. VII, 1908, pp.32-33.

169 the 1890s only deepened a separation that had been in existence the whole time. But it was not only internal reasons that contributed to this change.

A central cause for this transformation is the social place of crime in this period and how new theories, and techniques to tackle it, permeated the state. Political elites but also the public in general created a new imagery associated with the investigation of crime which to some extent had a correspondence within police services. In this respect, two innovations emerged prominently: the public emergence of the figure of the police detective as the astute and intelligent man and therefore far from the image of the uniformed patrolman; and new technological innovations that successfully or not transformed some of the practices for investigating crime and tackling criminality. The creation of an anthropometry office and archive in 1906 was the most significant outcome of this change for the Policia Civil. However, it is of paramount importance to our argument that the timid development of ‘scientific policing’ in this period in

Portugal took place not in the police but in services (prisons, morgue) under the direction of the Ministry of Justice, a pattern that would endure in the following decades.

The emergence of ‘criminology’ as a distinct area of knowledge was witnessed in Europe and elsewhere from the 1880s onwards.333 As a cultural transformation, criminology touched distinct areas: politicians used its discoveries in their discourses, normally to show the degeneration of society, particularly urban society, thus proving the flaws in governments and political regimens’ social policies; intellectuals and the literate public were struck by the symbolism of decline that the ‘criminal man’ represented; and doctors and other researchers used it to enhance the power provided by

332 Nuno Madureira ‘Policia sin ciencia: la investigation en Portugal: 1880-1936’ in Politico, y Sociedad, 2005, vol.42(3), pp.45-62 (p.55). 333 Emsley, Crime, Police and Penal Policy, pp.181-199; Peter Becker & Richard Wetzell (Eds) Criminals and their Scientists: The History of Criminology in International Perspective (Cambridge: CUP, 2006).

170 their expertise. The extent to which new procedures associated with criminology (like anthropometry for example) effectively changed policing practices is still a matter of debate among historians. For real or imaginary reasons, the fear of crime was widely discussed from the 1880s onwards. In Portugal, the theory that crime could be explained by a person’s biological traits did not emerge from the police and at its height was supported by many different fields. In fact it was the medical class and not the police that introduced these theories and associated practices in Portugal. In the 1880s a number of studies in the medical schools of Lisbon and Porto and in the University of

Coimbra established a significant knowledge field. The belief that there was an individual biological predisposition to crime was disseminated through the works of doctors like Ferraz de Macedo, Roberto Frias, Basflio Freire and Jose Joyce, among others. The fragility of some of these assumptions was attacked by others and sometimes recognised by its proponents. Nevertheless, the assumption of a biological determinism on criminal behaviour became a popular explanation in Portugal in this period. In the early twentieth-century, the criticism of the biological determinism from the Italian school of criminology and its followers was augmented, and authors like

Ferreira-Deusdato stridently defended the position that criminal behaviours were explained primarily by social and physiological factors.334 This type of measurement was first done in prisons, transforming them into anthropological laboratories. It began in 1885 in the Lisbon Penitentiary and spread to other Lisbon and Oporto prisons ten years later, before anthropometry offices were formally institutionalised in Lisbon and

Oporto prisons in August 1899. At beginning of the century another related method appeared in Portugal. According to Nuno Madureira, it was Professor Bettencourt

Ferreira, a doctor, who first introduced the discussion of Bertillon’s method in Portugal

334 Maria Joao Vaz,Crime e Sociedade: Portugal na Segunda metade do seculo XIX, (Oeiras: Celta, 1998), pp.31-62.

171 of identification by corporal measurements.335 Unlike doctors working in the field of

criminal anthropology, the objective here was not to explain crime but to deal with it.

From a scientific discussion, measurements of the body started becoming routine

administrative practices. Scientific knowledge generated by the medical community

began to be appropriated by the state. New bureaucratic practices were then created. In

fact, in the early twentieth century, it was through the prisons, i.e. in the judiciary

sphere, that these techniques of criminal identification were developed most.

What about the police services? It was only in 1906 that anthropometric offices were first opened in Lisbon and Porto’s Policia Civil services. The disarticulation between these and those operating within the Ministry of Justice sphere was blatant. In the following years, however, a process began that came to an end with the rise of the

New State in 1930s which placed criminal identification and forensic services and their use in the investigation of crimes in police or quasi-police structures under the direction of the Ministry of Justice. For our purposes here, it needs to be stressed that this process helped distance criminal investigation from public safety police personnel - if not always in concrete work relations and practices -, at least in the broader perception of the police. Although requiring more research - the correspondence between the

Ministries of Justice and Interior will certainly reveal a great deal in this respect - it can be taken for certain that a number of bureaucratic routines of criminal identification had already been developing since the 1880s under the direct or tacit control of the Ministry of Justice. On the other hand, criminal investigation practices within the Policia Civil had always been perceived as a specialised task, but were always organised at the police station level and only marginally relied on the criminal identification services. Thus, despite the fact that some of the ‘criminology’ influences helped to create the gap

335 Madureira, Policia sin ciencia, p.53.

172 between the uniformed and the plain-clothed policemen from the early twentieth- century, the everyday practices of criminal investigation were only slightly modified.

Although some publicly celebrated cases used the new techniques actively to help identify and catch the criminals, the main investigative methods of the police continued to rely on the intelligence and astuteness of its agents. And one of the main changes of this period was the way in which these figures came increasingly into the public eye and were publicly celebrated.

In Lisbon, criminal investigation as a policing practice gained wider social and cultural status, at least among the city’s middle-classes, whereas the beat policemen suffered from continuous public criticism. Police memoirs have recently become a privileged source used by historians to shed light on the social context in which policemen acted and what role was attributed to them. In the European context, Portugal only belatedly and timidly witnessed the surfacing of this popular literary genre from the late nineteenth-century. The first known printed memoirs of a police officer or police detective were those of Chief Jacob published from July to September of 1907 in

Lisbon’s most important quarterly, Ilustragao PortuguesaP1 The memoirs consist of the narration of a series of investigations and cases resulting from a conversation between Jacob and Rocha Martins, the journalist. Jacob was from the generation that had ‘developed’ police investigative methods in the previous decades.338 Jacob had joined the police in 1880 and was proud of his 27 year career in 1907. He had been bom in a small town in north Portugal, Mondim de Basto. Like so many others, he aimed for a better future when he decided to migrate to the city, where a post in the police seemed

336 Like the first of identification by fingerprints in a criminal trial case in 1904, see Madureira,Polida sin Ciencia, p.56. 337 Illustraqao Portugueza, n°73, 15-07-1907, pp.90-93; n°74, 22-07-1907, pp.125-128; n°75, 29-07-1907, pp.131-134; n°76, 05-08-1907, pp.187-190; n°77, 12-08-1907, pp.201-204; n°79, 26-08-1907, pp.284- 287; n°80,02-09-1907, pp.316-319; n°81, 09-09-1907, pp.346-349; n°82, 16-09-1907, pp.381-385. 338 Galeria de Criminosos Celebres, Vol.VII, 1908, p.32. Half a dozen police detectives are specifically referred in this piece. to most secure way to maintain the family. However, the morally dark urban scenario experienced in his adulthood was a stark contrast to the bright rural scenario of his youth. Jacob’s memoirs reveal almost a celebration of the astuteness and autonomy of a police detective, the opposite of what was expected from a uniformed policeman. When his memoirs were published, Jacob was not an unknown figure to Lisbon’s literate public. He had been written about in the ‘Gallery of Famous Criminals’, published between 1896 and 1907, which will be examined in more detail in the next chapter. As in the case of London, these memoirs can be seen as a sign of the elevation of the police detective’s status fostered by the proximity between some of Lisbon’s journalists and the police personnel.339 But they also marked a change in the focus of attention. Until then, they had been a curiosity for the criminal with the policeman acting as a repository of information, but Jacob’s memoirs represented a shift towards an interest in the figure of the policemanper se.

The authorship of the memoirs can be disputed: were they written more by the journalist or were they Jacob’s actual words? In either case, they represented the allegiance of policemen and some of the press, a relationship strongly fostered since the end of the nineteenth century. Contrary to what often happened elsewhere in Europe, the figure of the detective in Lisbon’s press was always associated with the police.

Although there were private security strategies in some areas, e.g., the neighbourhood night-watchmen, private detectives did not intervene in criminal cases, as far it is known.340 As noted, Jacob’s memoirs appeared in the context of a close relationship between policemen and journalists in general, but of this magazine in particular. In the previous year, a lengthy report in several numbers had addressed police issues and was

339 Shpayer-Makov, The Ascent of the Detective, pp. 187-225. 340 Only during the 1910s did the fiction based on private detectives become more popular in Portugal. This process began with the first translations of Sherlock Holmes adventures into Portuguese in 1907- 1910, see Maria Sampaio ‘Historia Critica do Genero Policial em Portugal (1870-1970): Transfusoes e Transferencias’ (PhD Thesis, Oporto: University of Porto, 2007), pp.31-38. 174 later published directly by the author, Albino Forjaz Sampaio, in a book entitled ‘A night in the police raid’ [Uma Noite de Rusga] which told of his experience of descending into Lisbon’s underworld with police officers. There was at least one prominent example of this type of piece in the Portuguese intellectual panorama. Years earlier, in 1895, a leading Portuguese intellectual of the generation that emerged in the

1880s, and minister for a brief period, had published a book entitled ‘The England of

Today’.341 Although the title referred to ‘England’, it was almost entirely dedicated to a description of the author’s visit to London between May and July 1892. In two chapters

“Visit to Whitechapel” and “Poverty”, the author accompanied a police officer through some of the most degraded parts of London. The policeman, like a tourist guide, helped uncover the tough realities of poverty. In the same fashion, policemen in Lisbon guided

A. Forjaz Sampaio through some of the old neighbourhoods, ‘infested’ with prostitutes, scoundrels and fadistas. At the same time as Jacob’s memoirs were being published, another piece about the latest developments of criminal identification in the Lisbon police was also inserted in the quarterly pages.342 It is clear that the continuous stream of publications and news pieces with police-related issues were fostered by the interrelationships between journalists and policemen, but also reflected the demands of a public educated in international trends in which crime fiction and non-fiction revealing the ‘underworld’ was gaining a prominent place. The point to make here is that whether an entertaining subject, as Jacob’s memoirs were intended to be, a path for social discovery, as the reports of the underworld aimed to be, or as a matter of technical expertise, like the pieces on criminal identification, police and policing practices had definitely entered the public spotlight. Increasingly, however, the

341 Oliveira Martins, The England of To-Day (London: George Allen, 1896). 342 Illustragao Portugueza, n°74, 22-07-1907, pp.105-110.

175 policeman envisaged was not the habitual and unsophisticated beat policeman, but a new astute and unpredictable man.

As in other European cities, a conjunction of social, cultural and professional conditions gave rise to a new police figure, who was noted for intelligence, tact and an intellectually more ambitious ‘natural’ instinct to investigate crimes than for physical force. Criminal investigation started to be represented almost as an art and, with the help of scientific techniques, a technical profession. Jacob’s memoirs and self­ representations in the ‘Gallery of Famous Criminals’ demonstrate that the albeit limited development of this movement, common in all European contexts, was also witnessed in Lisbon.343 With reference to Italy, Simona Mori sees this process happening not only in criminal investigation but in all police hierarchy: ‘a different representation of masculinity and police [the scientist-policeman] emerged at all levels of the hierarchy: a representation focusing less on moral qualities than on mastery over the knowledge provided by the new sciences’.344 These types of conclusion must be cautiously pondered otherwise there is the risk of generalising change to all police personnel when it was not the case. In Lisbon, the representation of the beat policeman - focused on moral qualities - remained frequent. Thus, it was more a diversification of representations than one type replacing another.

Although the criminal investigation branch of Policia Civil performed mainly routine criminal investigation duties, it was due to the second part of its name and functions - ‘Preventive Police’ - that it became more publicly known in the city.

‘Preventive Police’ took here a connotation of political policing. The socio-political instability that had been looming in the 1880s but reinforced in 1890 with the British

343 For Italy see Simona Mori ‘Becoming a policeman in nineteenth-century Italy: police gender culture through the lens of Professional manuals’ in David Barrie & Susan Broomhall (Eds)A History of Police and Masculinities 1700-2010 (London: Routledge, 2012), pp.102-122 (pp. 112-117). 344 Mori, ‘Becoming a policeman’, p.l 15.

176 Ultimatum, and the financial crisis of the following years endured in the following two

decades with the rise of Republicanism; this put Lisbon middle-classes in constant

turmoil that was, if not real, at least in their imagination. Concern about state security

grew over these years with correspondent consequences for the police services. Judge

Veiga’s rise in police leadership was correlated with the appearance of a framework of

human and material resources that, at least by comparison with the preceding decades, put much more emphasis on political surveillance. It is thus impossible to understand police reform and policing at the end of the century in Lisbon without conceiving it as a

state response to, first, the rising public fears about the anarchist movement, and, secondly, the Carbonari in the 1900s. It is no coincidence that police reform in Lisbon emerged when there was a major outburst of anarchist ‘propaganda by the deed’ in

Paris, followed in subsequent years by others in Spain and Italy.345 Portugal was no exception in this matter. Almost all Continental Europe experienced the emergence of anarchist terrorism from the early 1880s and the governmental response in terms of police repression, which was subsequently a powerful reason prompting police reform.346

The first signs of anarchist ideals spreading through Lisbon’s growing working class appeared in this decade. However, the first ‘propaganda by the deeds’ did not take place until the end of the decade. In January 1888, Pinheiro Chagas, a prominent conservative politician and a leading intellectual figure of the regime, wrote an article against the red virgin of Montmartre, Louise Michel. Some days later, a primary school teacher approached Pinheiro Chagas in front of the parliament (at this time Chagas was a member of parliament) demanding an apology for the article. Not happy with the

345 Richard Bach Jensen, ‘Daggers, Rifles and dynamite: anarchist terrorism in nineteenth century Europe’ in Terrorism and Political Violence, 2004, vol.16 (1), pp.l 16-153 (pp.133-136). 346 Richard Bach Jensen ‘The International Anti-Anarchist Conference of 1898 and the Origins of Interpol’ in Journal of Contemporary History, 1981, vol.16 (2), pp.323-347 (p.324).

177 explanations, he violently attacked Chagas with a cane. According to the press,

Chagas’s life was in danger for a few days but he then recovered. Manuel Joaquim

Pinto, the teacher, was rapidly arrested by the police and interrogated in the

Commissariat. On this occasion he confessed that his anarchist ideals were the reason for the assault. Subsequently, the police made a raid on the ‘anarchist environs’ of the city without noticeable results. After the trial, Pinto was convicted to 18 months imprisonment.347

Despite this incident, it was not so much the reaction to concrete movements and actions but the myth and the international phantom of anarchism, spread by the news from Paris, Barcelona or Rome, that created fears among the political elite and the urban middle-classes until the second half of the 1890s.348 The year of 1893, however, marked a significant quantitative jump in terms of anarchist associations.349 In 1895, the celebrations of the seventh centenary of St. Anthony were a big event in the city. The anarchists used one of the parades to distribute pamphlets and were involved in clashes with the police.350 It was thus as a reaction to these almost insignificant and inconsequential-acts and following the example of other European countries that the anti anarchist law of 13 February 1896 appeared. Besides criminalising anarchism, the law gave the Criminal Instruction Court more powers to arrest and judge suspects. In the end, however, the most significant contents of the law were not against anarchist actions but the way it controlled the press. Historian Richard Bach Jensen has characterised this law as ‘some of the most ferocious anti-anarchist legislation ever written’.351 It must however be emphasised that it was the myth and phantom of the

347 Joao Medina, ‘Pinheiro Chagas, a virgem vermelha e a bengala do anarquista’ inSear a Nova no. 1539/1540, Jan-Feb 1974, pp. 17-21, 26-30. 348 Rui Ramos, A Segunda Fundagao (1890-1926), (Lisbon: Estampa, 1998), pp.195-196. 349 Ventura, Anarquistas, p.86. 350 Ventura, Anarquistas, pp.42-45. 351 Jensen, Daggers, Rifles and dynamite, p. 136.

178 anarchism, more than concrete actions, that had led to this strong reaction against the

somewhat incipient anarchist movement experienced in Lisbon. Moreover, the weight

of events happening elsewhere in the minds of the Portuguese political elite should not

be forgotten. The truth is that the anti-anarchist law of 1896 was mainly a preventive

law.352

Moreover, the conclusion that anarchism was treated in Portugal as a political

and not a common criminal problem can only be avoided if no more than face value is

given to some discourses. There is little evidence of any relation between the spread of a positivist approach to crime and the crackdown of anarchism and other revolutionary movements. Portugal was closer here to Spain than to Italy, where the depoliticisation and medicalisation of anarchists had reduced the anarchist threat by giving it less publicity. Despite the lack of any serious actions, the Portuguese participation in the

Anti-Anarchist Conference of Rome in 1898 and adherence to the international Anti-

Anarchist Protocol signed in 1904 are clear signs of how the anarchist threat was being taking seriously by the government.354 As Richard Bach Jensen argued in relation to police reform and international police cooperation, if the 1898 Anti-Anarchist

Conference held in Rome was not totally successful in tackling anarchism, it was however significant in terms of extradition practices, criminal detection techniques standardisation and international police cooperation.355

352 On the preventive nature of the 1896 legsilation see Ventura, Anarquistas, p.93. On the transnational myth of the anarchism that spread in this period and how it is translated in new legislation see Richard Bach Jensen, ‘The International Campaign Against Anarchist Terrorism, 1880-1930s’ inTerrorism and Political Vioence, 2009, vol.21(l), pp.89-109; p.91-92. 353 Richard Bach Jensen ‘Criminal anthropology and anarchist terrorism in Spain and Italy’ in Mediterranean Historical Review, 2001, vol.16 (2), pp.31-44 (p.41). However, there is here terrain for future research and debate. In January 1896 one worker stoned the carriage that transported the king when it was passing a working-class neighbourhood; he was later detained and, significantly, sent for examination by Dr. Joyce, a well known criminalist and later one of the authors of the Gallery of Famous Criminals. Days later the house of Dr. Joyce was attacked with a bomb. However, despite the fact that the doctors diagnosed the worker’s insanity, his anarchist ideals were always publicly recognised. 354 Jensen, ‘The International Campaign’, p.98. Italy, United States, France and Britain did not sign this protocol. 355 Jensen, ‘The International Anti-Anarchist’, p.341.

179 The extent to which this participation in international meetings affected the

Portuguese police is a subject that warrants greater analysis than this chapter allows.

But two points should be noted here: firstly, the lack of participation in the Rome conference on the part of the Policia Civil; secondly, an impression from Portuguese archives which leads to the hypothesis that the end of nineteenth century witnessed a significant growth in extradition procedures or at least more international exchange of information. As to the first, the report and correspondence related with the Rome conference in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs archive indicates that despite the Ministry of Interior being asked who should participate from the Portuguese police with the response that this was the responsibility of the Judge of Criminal Instruction, nobody from the Policia Civil participated or give any opinion about that meeting and its

o c / : proceedings. As to the second, a preliminary exploration of the Civil Government of

Lisbon archive for the early twentieth-century, where correspondence on this subject had to pass, shows a rise in the number of extradition processes or the exchange of correspondence with foreign police forces about identified criminals in comparison with previous times. The fact that Lisbon was a main port city with privileged connections with Latin America is not probably unconnected. Although only clues that need more extensive and systematic research, this last point in particular helps us to assert there was a growing separation between criminal investigation and the public safety branch.

The early 1900s witnessed a retraction and compliance of the anarchist movement to non-violent syndicalism.358 However, from 1905 the city experienced a resurgence of the carbonari - a Masonic organisation composed of the urban lower middle-class and, to a lesser extent, working-class which functioned as the republicans’

356 AHMNE, Cx.54,Mq.2. 357 See for example, ADL-GCL, NT856 NR8, pt.l 1. 358 Joao Freire, • Anarquistas e operarios: Ideologia, * oflcio e praticas sociais: o anarquismo e o operariado em Portugal, 1900-1940, (Porto: Afrontamento, 1992), p.194.

180 armed force and who were sometimes difficult to control.359 Not surprisingly, they were often called anarchists, even though they did not profess anarchist ideals; they were labelled anarchists due to their (actual or not) use of ‘daggers, rifles and dynamite’.

How effective was the police crackdown on revolutionary movements and what results did it achieve during the 1900s? It was publicly recognized at the time that the

Carbonari were open and free to fabricate and circulate bombs and guns and to plot subversive acts and revolutions. The attack that killed King D. Carlos I and Prince D.

Luis Filipe in 1908 and the successful Republican Revolution two years later are sheer indications that police could not cope with the turmoil in the city. According to some accounts, one of the first moves of the revolution, in the afternoon of 3 October 1910, consisted of hundreds of Carbonari members going to the Republican Party headquarters to collect bombs and guns. The Republican headquarters were just one hundred metres from the police General Commissariat. Why was there such a notorious failure to tackle revolutionary movements? A thorough answer would require a study of its own, and many of the factors are not related with the police per se but to larger political, economic and social causes. However, the considerations about institutional reform and organisational shaping made earlier perhaps support the hypothesis that institutional and organisational constraints posed on the Criminal

Investigation branch limited and weakened the police response to anarchism. The police were only vaguely fashioned to respond to political threats and this only started in 1893.

There was nothing like the British Special Branch, created in 1883, or the international

' i f . ' ) intelligence system developed by the Italians in the 1900s in Lisbon’s police system.

After the Regicide in 1908 there were some timid measures to develop such

359 Ramos, A Segunda Fundagao, p.318-320. 360 Ramos, A Segunda Fundagao, p.252. 361 Vasco Pulido Valente, O Poder e o Povo: a revolugao de 1910 (Lisbon: Gradiva, 5th Edition, 2004 [1976]), p.108. 362 Jensen, ‘International pp.96-97.

181 intelligence, but it was already too late; the Republic came without anything like an effective political policing apparatus in operation.

On the eve of the regicide when a number of Republican leaders had been arrested, the Guarda Municipal’s commandant complained to a friend: the police ‘sees nothing, does nothing’.363 A prominent Republican politician of the 1920s (and in this period a militant of the Carbonari) recalled the slight fear that the sight of a uniformed policeman provoked in him and, moreover, ‘the ones from the [Public] Safety working in the [Criminal] Investigation were too few, almost all known and always in plain clothes’.364 This is not a surprise given what the growing public celebrity of the police detective noted above. The almost friendly side of the terms in which adversaries remembered Veiga is another clue to the weakness of the Criminal Investigation and

Preventive Police branch. Despite the myth of a great spy surveillance led by Judge

Veiga that was spread by Republicans, the force of the police was scarce and badly articulated with other state agencies. Lack of material and human resources and institutional independence were indeed two key factors in the inability of the police to deal with dissent movement and, as consequence, protect the regime. Although Policia

Civil, and the police system as a whole, went through a process of functional specialisation, it had its limits and weaknesses, notably the unclear combination between criminal investigation and political surveillance.

Conclusion

This chapter examined some of the social, cultural and professional diversities found in the organisational development of Policia Civil. The chapter began by noting that the

363 Dias, O Coronel Malaquias, p.40. 364 Silva, O meu depoimento, p. 190, 225.

182 men that joined Policia Civil were not very different from those joining police forces in other European cities: unskilled working-class men in a migratory movement to the city looking for a secure job. However, an analysis of the daily orders showed that the nature of the job and working relations in general were much more dynamic than might have been thought. The persistence of second jobs and how they were negotiated within the organisation is the clearest example of this. A look at the other end of police hierarchy also shows the cultural diversity in the construction of Policia Civil organisational culture, which will be the main subject of the next chapter.

While the previous chapter identified police stations as central anchors in how the police force was shaped, this chapter added new locations, ones that emerged in last decade of the century and expressed the growing complexity of police services and the institutional and cultural transformations of the police: the anthropometry offices, the judge of criminal instruction office, among others. Although there were some signs of functional specialisation within Policia Civil, they were restricted to two areas: public order and criminal investigation. The first was already seen in the previous chapter, when the Guarda Municipal's de-territorialisation process and concentration on public order maintenance operation was stressed. As for the second, it was seen in this chapter that it was more a process of institutional reform in Policia Civil more than a change of concrete policing practices and police personnel. Moreover, the most blatant signs of criminal investigation specialisation - the emergence of technologically advanced identification techniques and the rise of the figure of the detective - appeared beyond the limits of Policia Civil, in the Ministry of Justice services and the popular press respectively.

183 5. Shaping the policeman: The emergence of an organisational

culture

The previous chapter was devoted to a broad canvas of the Policia Civil’s main organisational changes and characteristics prior to 1910. In this chapter the scope is narrowed to the uniformed men who patrolled the city streets and the everyday life of police stations. Before 1893 this corresponded to virtually all police personnel and after the reform of that year to the men assigned to the ‘public safety’ branch. As noted in the previous chapter, however, there was a continuous interchange of men making it impossible to draw clear separations. The argument of the chapter is structured in four points, which represent the various dimensions in which the lives of those who joined and made a career in the Policia Civil were affected by the constraints imposed by strategies devised within the organisational framework.

The aim of the first section is to look at the symbolic and material aspects represented in the policeman’s uniform and the various cultural meanings present in the act of wearing it. The uniform is examined as a ‘thing’ and its use as a gesture embedded in organisational conflicts. Secondly, attention is paid to other bodily features and practices such as the moustache and act of smoking, as key aspects in the way policemen presented themselves on the streets and how this presentation was controlled by the hierarchical structure. Thirdly, the growing concern with the integration of new recruits and training of the men on the force will be examined. The dilemmas, actors and spaces of this training are identified and examined here. Finally, and in relation to the previous point, the production of knowledge that aimed to integrate the recruited men and the uniformisation of their working conducts will be observed. The object of

184 study is not only the production itself but also its circulation, which went beyond the limits of the police.

The rationale going through all these points is that the police force - i.e. the police organisation - can be examined and characterised first and foremost as a space of contention between a planned, desired and often publicly perceived uniformity and the individual diversity that marked its everyday life. This chapter focuses on the organisational endeavour to implant compliance in internally generated, physical and behavioural rules and ideals. At the end of the chapter, it is suggested that this began as an aspiration from the top of the hierarchy, but as time went by and men concluded long careers increasingly began to emanate from street-level or, more precisely, from station- level. Thus, it can be concluded that the formation and strengthening of a professional identity can be identified in this internal socialisation.

5.1. Uniforms: layers of meaning

Uniforms are still a neglected subject in police history. Probably as an academic reaction to hagiographic, amateurish history, where uniforms are normally a researched topic, these have not normally been directly addressed in the history of the police written by academic historians. And indeed the policeman’s uniform conceals many instances where, as a material object and a symbol, the continuous tensions between a desired collective uniformity and a concrete individuality that pervades the whole functioning of police organisation and police work, can be clearly observed. This part of the chapter examines the ‘life’ of the uniform in Policia Civil, namely through the practices and conflicts generated from having to wear it and the meanings attributed to the uniform in the making of an organisational culture. As will be seen, this is an almost

185 ideal subject to see the formation and reconfiguration of formal and informal hierarchies and status within the police organisation. The material side and the practicalities of wearing a uniform are also considered here and attention given to the problems within police organisation posed by the rank-and-file’s uses and misuses of the uniform and their significance in the shaping of individual policemen and, consequently, of the organisation as a whole.

Although an under-researched theme, scholars have occasionally addressed this issue. The United States is probably where the act of wearing on the police uniform was most culturally and symbolically charged. Wilbur Miller noted significant differences between London and New York in this respect. While in London, uniforms were essential to control the men’s actions, served as deterrents to criminals and promoted a feeling of safety among the population through their visibility, in New York they were seen as contradictory to the true American ‘democratic ideal’ and men fiercely resisted

o / ' r wearing them. In a dispute between military versus civilian ethos, Eric Monkkonen further emphasised the ambiguity embedded in uniforms, showing the widespread resistance to them and, significantly, placing them as the key variable marking the transition between the old and the ‘New Police’ throughout North-American cities.

Working on the English police, Barbara Weinberger described the complicated path of the uniform as a symbol of police professionalism.367 In continental Europe, the process has been described in quite similar terms. Recently, David G. Barrie and Susan

Broomall placed the discussion more directly on the individual figure of the policeman, noting the somewhat paradoxical opposition between the symbolic strength the

365 Wilbur R. Miller Cops and Bobbies: Police Authority in New York and London, (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1977), pp.32-37. 366 Eric Monkkonen Police Urban America 1860-1920 (Cambridge: CUP, 2004 [1981]) pp.39; 45-46; 53- 54. 367 Barbara Weinberger ‘Are the Police Professionals? An historical account of the British Police Institution’ in Barbara Weiberger & Clive Emsley (Eds), Policing Western Europe: Politics, Professionalism and Public Order, 1850-1940 (New York: Greenwood Press, 1991) p.79.

186 ‘uniformed’ men provide the institution and the loss of individuality it represented to the policeman. The collection of essays in this volume exemplifies a subject which, though often raised for varying proposes and in different contexts, still needs to be

directly addressed. David Garrioch, working on the eighteenth-century Parisian police,

sees a part of Commissaires’ authority emanating from their dress.369 In line with historians already cited, Matthew MacCormack interpreted the uniform issue in the context of a contention between the civil or military ethos present in the nineteenth century police reform process. MacCormack stresses however that these cannot be considered clear-cut categories.370 Simona Mori, focusing on the late nineteenth-century

Italian police, argues that both the uniform and the weapons carried when patrolling were more of a burden than an honour to civilian police officers, resulting in a weaker

0 7 1 self-identity when compared with the military. Haia Shapyer-Makov calls attention to the policy makers’ perspective on the policeuniformisation, interpreting its adoption as a form of legitimisation; the uniform constituted ‘the most visible sign of [the policeman’s] authority’, noting in general the ‘powerful impact of uniform’ on policing practice.372 Finally, Dean Wilson, working on colonial Melbourne, emphasises that the uniform signified the policeman’s separation from the community and a symbol of the

368 David Barrie and Susan Broomhall (Eds.), A History of Police and Masculinities, 1700-2010, (London: Routledge, 2012), p. 13. 369 David Garrioch ‘The paternal government of men: the self image and action of the Paris police in the eighteenth century’, in David Barrie and Susan Broomhall (Eds.),A History of Police and Masculinities, 1700-2010, (London: Routledge, 2012), pp.35-54 (p.47). 370 Matthew McCormack ‘«A species of civil soldier»: masculinity, policing and the military in 1780s England, David Barrie and Susan Broomhall (Eds.),A History of Police and Masculinities, 1700-2010, (London: Routledge, 2012), pp.55-71 (p.67). 371 Simona Mori ‘Becoming policemen in nineteenth-century Italy: police gender culture through the lens of Professional manuals’, in David Barrie & Susan Broomhall (Eds) A History of Police and Masculinities 1700-2010 (London: Routledge, 2012), pp.102-122 (p.110). 372 Haia Shpayer-Makov ‘Shedding the uniform and acquiring a new masculine image: the case of the late-Victorian and Edwardian English police detective’, in David Barrie and Susan Broomhall (Eds.),A History of Police and Masculinities, 1700-2010, (London: Routledge, 2012), pp.141-162, (p.141-142, 146-148).

187 men’s ‘total enmeshment within the institution’.373 In short, it is thus a public symbol of authority and professionalism on one hand, and a technique of control and, consequently, of contention on the other. It is such analyses that have guided the following discussion.

There were (and are) different layers of meaning embedded in the policeman’s uniform. In first place, there is a political meaning in the uniform that needs to be acknowledged. The will of having state authority publicly represented and visible as a protection of citizens’ rights against the threats of undercover spies was an important aspect, but also, by choosing blue as the colour, the desire to express a clear distinction between the police and the military asserted police independence from civil administration. As the liberal political culture spread, this was true of England as it was of other countries in Continental Europe, including Portugal, obviously with different intensities and chronologies.374 The (blue) uniform was thus one of the most significant symbols in the political discursive assertion of the ‘modem’ form of police. In the military tradition, the use of a uniform was one of the strongest symbols of hierarchical, centralised control, and despite wanting to distance itself from the military, the police had to emulate some of the characteristics for practical reasons. The uniform was a basic tool in the creation of an organisation and the control of its members, a body technique used to construct and perform identities and social roles and thus a rich ground for examining an organisational relational process. In fact, uniforms are normally aprioristically conceived as a given fact, when they need to be seen as a process. Many of the issues discussed below have obviously many resemblances with

373 Dean Wilson ‘«Well-set-up men»: respectable masculinity and police organizational culture in Melbourne 1853-C.1920’, in David Barrie and Susan Broomhall (Eds.), A History of Police and Masculinities, 1700-2010, (London: Routledge, 2012), pp.163-180 (p.166, 170). 374 Clive Emsley ‘The English Bobby: An indulgent tradition’ in Roy Porter (Ed.) Myths of the English, (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1993), pp.l 14-135 (p. 115). 375 Jennifer Craik Uniforms Exposed: From conformity to transgression (New York: Berg, 2005), p.xviii.

188 'inf. the military. However, the specificities of the police in managing a ‘force’ of men will clearly emerge; the quotidian action within the public arena inherent to police activity was what gave police its distinctiveness and was absolutely central in the shaping of the policeman.

Moreover, the uniformisation of the policeman came in the context of the wider state building process and the invention of the figure of the public, or civil, servant in which the legitimisation was indelibly marked by a standardisation of processes, of

0 7 7 (bureaucratic) discourses, and dress. In the eighteenth century, a civilising gendered phenomenon put traits like civility, politeness and humanity at the core of the gentleman’s manhood. Throughout the nineteenth century this was being extended with some nuances to or incorporated by sections of the working-class.378 It is in this context that many of the transformations within civilian police forces can be interpreted. Here attention is focused on some aspects of this process: the uniform and the physical neatness of the policemen. From the early days of the Policia Civil, uniforms became an internal issue of contention and a symbol and practice of distinction and hierarchisation among the members of the force. Publicly, the lack of tidiness in wearing the uniforms became a regular target of criticism.

Contrary to what might be imagined at first glance, not all members of the

Policia Civil were obliged to wear uniforms in their daily routines. Until 1893, the

General Commissioner, Commissioners and all clerical staff did not normally wear uniforms. After 1893, army officers who entered the top of police hierarchy wore their original military uniforms. Lower in the hierarchy, police constables and sergeants were

376 For the uniformisation and discipline of the Portuguese army in the late eighteenth century see Fernando Dores Costa Insubmissao: Aversao ao servigo militar no Portugal do seculo XVIII, (Lisbon: ICS, 2010), pp.297-304. 377 Antonio Manuel Hespanha Guiando a mao invisivel: Direitos, Estado e Lei no Liberalismo Monarquico Portugues (Coimbra: Almedina, 2004) p.298. 378 Andy Croll Civilizing: popular culture and public space in Merthyr, 1870-1914 (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2000), p.7.

189 obliged to wear uniforms every time they set a foot on the streets. This even applied to when they were off duty unless they had a licence from their superiors stating otherwise. It was not the uniform that symbolised they were on duty but a white stripe attached to the arm.379 Placed at the heart of the police hierarchy, the use of the uniform by police station chiefs was (as in other aspects examined in this chapter) contentious.

Wearing or not wearing uniform was a symbol of power status within the force and police station chiefs were in a grey area of the organisational scale making the contention more dynamic. The issue around the use of uniforms by police station chiefs clearly demonstrates that the delimitation of boundaries - either formal or informal - within the hierarchical structure of the police was more of a fluid and dynamic

‘process’, than a mere regulatory enforcement emanating from above.

The dispute over whether police station chiefs should have to wear uniforms or not started right at the beginning of Policia Civil and in the mid-1870s still persisted.380

Normally, in the order of the day General Commissioner would stress the need for station chiefs to wear their uniforms. But this was not always perceived as a problem.

The fact that in the 1870s in particular the General Commissioner sometimes had to indicate explicitly that station chiefs should wear their uniforms for a particular event shows us that they did not do so on a daily basis.381 Uniforms were one point in a more general configuration of the status and routines of police station chiefs within the organisation. In his first order as General Commissioner in 1876, C. Morais Sarmento took care to establish more formally the working hours of police station chiefs (from l

379 “[T]he stripe will serve to show that the policeman is on duty”, IAN/TT-APCL, NT214 NP076, DO N.4, 04-01-1875, P.2. The situations where accidentally or on purpose policemen forgot to put the strip originated a number of disciplinary cases over the years, see IAN/TT-APCL, NT218 NP081, DO N.153, 02-06-1881, P.2. Further re-emphasising of this order, IAN/TT-APCL, NT218 NP081, DO N.156, 05-06- 1882, P.5; DO N.275, 03-10-1882, P.l; D0.76, 17-03-1883, P.2. 380 IAN/TT-APCL, NT214 NP076, DO, N.110, 20-04-1875, P.5, where there is a reference to the DO N.171 of 28-03-1868. 381 Some examples in IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, DO, N.72, 13-03-1874, P.l; IAN/TT-APCL, NT215 NP077, DO N.40, 09-02-1877, P.2.

190 8am to 3pm).382 In the following years, another issue raised was how they were addressed in the organisation communications; unlike guards and sergeants who were addressed by their numbers, police station chiefs were referred to by their family names.

In 1877 a daily order tried to end this practice by attributing numbers to the station chiefs. However, this was an unsuccessful attempt to change relational rules since station chiefs were always addressed by their names.383 In the 1880s, the problem of wearing uniforms was apparently resolved and their use by police chiefs seemed to be the. In 1883, for example, the problem was not the use of uniform but of the stars on the collar that identified them as chiefs.384 In 1889, it was again drawn to the attention police station chiefs were that they were only allowed to wear ‘civilian clothes’ with the

General Commissioner’s permission. The Commissioner noted, ‘It has come to my knowledge that the abuse has gotten to the point that some chiefs have been showing up in plain clothes to the theatres service’. The tone used in the order makes it appear that this was an exception and not the rule as previously. The use of uniforms by police station chiefs is a clear example of an organisation in constant reconfiguration. In the case of the chiefs, it was mainly hierarchical status; the fact that they had to wear it brought them closer to sergeants and constables and more distant from police commissioners. But it was among the bulk of the rest of the rank-and-file that the issue of uniforms was the greatest source of conflict.

Contrary to England, but similar to the situation in some German cities, Lisbon’s police constables had to pay for their own uniforms through a monthly deduction to their salaries. Uniforms were not however an absolute given in policemen’s working

382 IAN/TT-APCL, NT215 NP077, DO N.301, 27-10-1876, P.8. 383 IAN/TT-APCL, NT215 NP077, DO N.46, 15-02-1877, P.10. 384 IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NP082, DO N.354, 20-12-1883, P.8. 385 IAN/TT-APCL, NT225 NP087, DO N.86, 27-03-1889, P.3. 386 For England see Clive Emsley, ‘The Policeman as Worker: A Comparative Survey C. 1800-1940’ in International Review of Social History, 2000, vol.45(l), pp.89-110 (p.98); For Germany see Elaine

191 lives; individual resistance to their use and deviance from the established norm in respect to multiple items in the uniform happened on a daily basis. Given that policemen had to pay for their uniforms, the frequency of conflicts between chiefs and constables over their poor state of repair comes as no surprise. It is also not surprising that one of the few investigations into police corruption during these years appeared as a

'io n result of the internal scheme of acquisition and repair of uniforms. Using private ways of repairing the uniforms, typically by their wives, could put a policeman in peril of heavily punishment by his superiors. In 1889 a guard was punished for attending the court late and being disrespectful to his superior when the sergeant reported him to the

General Commissioner. Days later, when he appeared before C. Morais Sarmento, the guard ‘presented in my presence with bell-bottom trousers like the ones used by the fadistas, declaring that they had been made in a private tailor’. He was just punished with two additional duties - as a matter of comparison it should be noted that a few days later another policeman was punished with four additional duties for making an obscene gesture to one colleague (‘fazer um manguito') - but the use of uniforms made or altered privately continued over the years. In this case, what was indeed completely inadmissible for the police leaders was to change the official pattern of the uniforms, notably in a way that approximated the policeman to the archetypal figure of the rough in the city, the fado singer.388

In the eyes of Lisbon’s police leaders, a modem and professional police force would have to be characterised by its uniformity; this related to many aspects of police operations but first and foremost to the more obvious and public of all: the uniforms

Glovka Spencer, Police and the Social Order in German Cities: The Dusseldorf District, 1848-1914, (DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1992), p.37. 387 IAN/TT-MR, MQ.2824-A, Lv.35, Proc. N°94, (a case in 1885). 388IAN/TT-APCL, NT225 NP087, DO N.12, 12-01-1889, P.6. For a similar case some months later see DO N.89, 30-03-1889, P.7. Another item of the uniform frequently changed by men was the type of buttons. 192 worn by policemen. For the senior hierarchy, uniforms were a central problem because they normally showed the ‘public’ a lack of order, uniformity and discipline - traits they conceived essential to a police force and that were the very essence of the police mission. In one particular type of situation, this view and the conflicts arising from it was especially acute: policemen’s appearance in the courts. Giving testimony in court was a particularly public situation in two senses: the policeman was not only before the public in the courtroom but also through the newspapers reports, and before the judiciary system. Thus, good order and uniformity in the policeman’s physical appearance was considered essential within the force. As can be easily guessed this did not always happen. In August 1875, for example, the General Commissioner used sharp words to warn every man on the force about the need to present themselves decently in court. Using the case of two guards who had not only ‘by custom and on a daily basis presented themselves in a repugnant and disgusting manner in their uniforms’, had appeared at ‘theBoa-Hora court in such a shameful way that they seemed more like despicable beggars’ - a situation which he had testified in person; he warned all men against the inconvenience of such situations for the public image of the police.389 Both guards were temporarily suspended. In the order that described this disciplinary case, the practical and economic difficulties in maintaining the uniform in good conditions was recognised by the Commissioner, since he noted that policemen were indeed allowed to use uniforms in bad conditions but ‘only on night patrols’. However, the presentation of the policemen before the judiciary system was a central moment in police work and one that indelibly affected the police’s public image. This issue reveals how visibility - either in a literal sense, night versus day, or symbolically, through the

389 IAN/TT-APCL, NT214 NP076, DO, N.239, 27-08-1875, P.l.

193 relevance of the trial as an event - was a central concept regulating the functioning of police and policing practices.

It was not only the good or bad condition of the uniforms that raised conflicts, but also the uniformity of uniforms worn by policemen. The use or lack of use of different objects of the uniforms, bonnets, tarpaulin jackets, etc. became a matter of dispute in the daily orders. The problem was so significant that instead of directing his invectives against the guards at fault, the General Commissioner warned the station chiefs who should be the overseers and enforcers of good order in general and of the good condition and identical use of the uniforms in particular. Pointing the finger at the police station chiefs and showing disbelief at their carelessness, he stated that if they had ‘looked more seriously for the discipline and uniformity of their subordinates, he certainly would not have found it necessary to repeat an order [about the outlook of the uniforms] already given in previous years’.390 When, days after this warning, police station chief Jose Pinto Teixeira posted the order on the wall in his police station house the General Commissioner was quick to praise him ‘because he just prove[d] how interested he [was] in the discipline and uniformity of the esquadra under his

OQ T command’. In the following months and years, the General Commissioner continued to express his ‘disgust’ at the lack of ‘cleanliness’ and ‘uniformity’ of the police uniforms which ‘denote[d] [an] unspeakable neglect’ of the guards but also of the sergeants and police station chiefs who were responsible for the execution of the orders repeatedly issued.392 Some months later, at the beginning of August 1873, the threat took real consequences as he suspended four police station chiefs for six days because they did not oversee the orders for tidiness and uniformity. Days later, however, he backed down and the station chiefs were reintegrated. The evidence does not show what

390 IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, DO N.343, 08-12-1872, P.5. 391 IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, DO N.346, 11-12-1872, P.L 392 IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, DO N.134, 14-05-1873, P.l. 194 happened in between, in the general commissariat and in the station houses between the general commissioner, the other commissioners and the station chiefs, but at a time when punishments imposed on police station chiefs were very rarely published in the daily orders, it is possible to discern the collective symbolic weight of this punishment even though days later it was withdrawn.393 So important was the good order and uniformity of uniforms that, as already noted earlier in this work, when telephones were installed in police stations in the early 1880s, one of its first uses was the daily phone call from the general commissariat to all police stations instructing whether policemen should or should not wear tarpaulin jackets on the night shift.

The use of ‘alien items’ added to the official uniform, like watches and their chains, a form of expressing personal identity, raised frequent reprehensions in the daily orders, thus denoting the lack of order and uniformity that depreciated the public image of the police. Pocket watches and their chains transmitted an image of social distinction to the policeman and were, especially in the early days of Policia Civil, a constant issue of contention between police chiefs and the rank and file. In 1876, the General

Commissioner re-issued a series of older orders stating that policemen should not ‘use watch chains over their coats; those who wished to use them should do so underneath’.

According to an order of 1870, all chiefs should be aware and enforce the rule that stated that it was ‘strictly forbidden’ that policemen ‘used watch chains over their coats or other luxury adornments’. It is possible to interpret policemen’s willingness to show items like watches in public as a strategy to distance themselves from the lower orders by emulating their ‘betters’, something that would happen in other sections of the city’s working class, although there are no studies on this issue. As usual, the raising of this

393 IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, DO N.216, 04-08-1873, P.3.

195 issue in the daily orders reflected something happening on the streets and in the hierarchical relations within the police force:

‘I am surprised that some men of this police force have forgotten the fulfilment of this and other permanent orders; in the two orders here recompiled the police station chiefs are responsible for overseeing that the orders are not violated; with displeasure I have seen frequent transgressions, but I have not received from the station chiefs complaints against the transgressors, and even more objectionable is that some station chiefs and sergeants are the first to transgress these and other permanent orders and therefore they feel themselves inhibited to denounce their subordinates.394

Other small gestures emerged over the years in this respect, undone buttons, upturned collars (again, prohibited except during the night shifts), for example, but very rarely this micro-resistance transpired to the orders issued from the centre of the organisation. The act of putting on the uniform - in the correct manner - revealed a complex web of relationships where formal hierarchical relations were also marked by generalised complicity at the station house level. According to the discourses and the subjects ‘discussed’ in the daily orders, the question of the uniformity of policemen uniforms was especially relevant during the 1870s and early 1880s. References to policemen transforming their uniforms or using objects that produced an image lacking uniformity gradually disappear over the 1880s. Although this may also mean that the

General Commissioner did not regard this as an issue for the daily orders, the most probable explanation is that it ceased to be such a blatant field of contention. Also, as the wearing of uniforms became supposedly more common in occupations other than the military (fire-fighters, parks overseers, hotel doormen), it was no longer such a potent issue within the force.

Until now, uniforms and the policemen physical appearance have been examined as organisational issues; they punctuated the life of the force and were central to how

394 IAN/TT-APCL, NT215 NP077, DO N.255, 11-09-1876, P.l.

196 police leaders conceived and represented a desired public image of the policeman.

However, like almost all of the subjects discussed in this chapter, there was a facet of uniforms that directly and significantly determined the interactions between policemen and the population. One tiny object in their uniforms concentrated many public and organisational attentions: the individual number of the policeman on the collar. In police bureaucratic processes - particularly in the daily orders - guards were never identified by name but by the number and division to which they belonged: Jose Gonsalves was not Police Constable Gonsalves, but Nol7 of the 2nd Division.395 That was how the individuals were represented within the institution and in the wider public; in the daily press policemen were always ‘named’ by their numbers. This was similar to what happened in England or France but different from Germany where policemen did not

'lQf. carry a personal number. It was noted above how this form of personal treatment carried a shared meaning of status and deference within the organisation, as was the case of station chiefs and a few sergeants being addressed by name. This is a meaningful practice to the extent that it is another indicator of the growing complexity of working structures that assembled hundreds of individuals, a wide-ranging social transformation, and needed new and innovative management techniques -

‘bureaucratisation’ is the concept in question here. It must be emphasised that this general concept aims to accentuate the de-personalisation of individuals in their working relations through the use of numbers, to contextualise and objectify them. The higher one goes up the police hierarchy ladder, the more the name appears in both the daily orders and in the press, because the numbers in the higher ranks were fewer and they were more easily identified by name, but also with the higher social and

395 Significantly, only when a policeman was discharged from duty did his full name appeared in the daily order. 396 Anja Johansen ‘Complain in vain? The development of a ‘police complaints culture’ in Wilhelmine Berlin’, Crime, History & Societies, 2009, vol.l3(2), pp.l 19-142 (p.136).

197 hierarchical status by which they were recognised in the force and among the population.

The individual number on the men’s uniform was an essential device of organisational control and police accountability to the public. Days after the reorganisation of police services at the end of August of 1893, newspaper reporters noted: ‘yesterday, our inspecting eyes were fixed on the collars of Messrs Policemen, had the pleasure of noting that they already carried the new numeration’.397 In fact, the policeman’s number on his collar became a significantly central element in the interactions between policemen and the ‘public’ (not only newspaper reporters). They seemed however to be too small to be immediately identified by those interacting with the policemen. One blatant example of both the centrality of the individual numbers in police-public interactions and the difficulty of being identified in the rush of the moment emerged in the early 1890s between policemen and individuals who worked in the transport sector, cab-dri vers, wagoners and tramways drivers. As will be examined in the following chapter, this was a period where these workers’ relations with each other and with the police were especially marked by clashes and conflicts. A routine of traffic accidents in a city with a layout not particularly suitable for an easing traffic flow, with overcrowded trams in a demographically rapidly growing city, were factors that caused numerous daily conflicts among drivers and between drivers and policemen that led to abundant fines and arrests. Among the many orders issued on this subject, one directly reflected the kinds of interaction occurring on the streets: ‘some policemen have been detaining cab-drivers and tramways drivers for the sheer fact of being [by the drivers] requested their number and division’. The General Commissioner was warning that that in cases of conflicts between drivers, and when in doubt, policemen were often

397 Jomal do Comercio, 16-09-1893.

198 wrongly arresting both parties. Threatening those who continued such behaviour with expulsion, the General Commissioner also advised about the individual numbers

‘Asking for the number of a policeman is not to disregard or disrespect him. Those who are conscious of an accomplished duty should not have to fear giving the number to

OQO whoever requests it’. A more systematic analysis of the ‘use’ of the policeman’s individual number by the urbanites is impossible to trace here with the kind of sources being examined herein. But an initial acknowledgement of the willingness of at least part of Lisbon’s public to ‘use’ police’s individual numbers can lead to further research in line with that of Anja Johansen for Berlin and London, thus contributing to the discussion around a ‘complaints culture’ in police-public relations.399 In Lisbon, individual police numbers had an internal function of facilitating the management of a large group of men, and a public function, enabling citizens - in theory and with some hints of being a concrete practice - to know exactly who the policeman they wanted to complain about was.

It is probable that as time went by and the men became more accustomed to the job and had a stronger and more coherent idea of what it was to be a policeman and how he should publicly present himself, the conflicts over irregular uniforms decreased. The most significant aspect to conclude from these everyday conflicts is the effective capacities of policemen to print out individuality on what was supposed to curtail it.

Equally, it is not difficult to imagine that the experience of policing by city inhabitants was not, in respect to uniforms and other aspects, as uniform as one might initially think.

5.2. Bodily appearance: The hair, moustache and cigarette.

398 IAN/TT-APCL, NT225 NP087-088, DO N.206, 04-08-1890, P.5. 399 Johansen, ‘Complain in vain?’.

199 Directly related with the concerns about the uniformity of uniforms, the issues of policeman’s personal hygiene, bodily postures and conduct in public were also constantly being raised by police leaders in the everyday life of daily orders and police stations. Policia Civil commissioners constantly took a constant interest in and tried to correct policemen’s physical tidiness and conduct in public so as to obtain the highest possible degree of order and uniformity. As with the uniforms, neat hair and moustache, and the physical posture generally were considered important in the dynamic process of police legitimacy and authority before the public. The comparison with the military is relevant here to understand the importance and particularities of this issue in the police universe. Whereas the individual neatness of soldiers simply embodied ideals of conforming to hierarchical rules, good order and uniformity, the fact that policemen interacted routinely with the population was an additional concern in the police force.

The physical appearance and body proportions of the police were considered a key part of building the policeman’s authority. In 1908, for example, one of the most important Portuguese republican leaders sharply criticised the Policia Civil in the parliament coining it as “the worst police in the world”. In what was a common argument in Portugal and the rest of Europe, Afonso Costa compared the, in his view, violent and authoritarian Lisbon policeman with an idyllically perfect English policeman. The response of the Portuguese Prime Minister of the time, Ferreira do

Amaral, sheds light on how the political elite and the police leaders related body appearance and police authority. Responding to Costa’s general criticisms and also to his proposal thatPolicia Civil men stopped wearing the recently-acquired revolvers on their beats, Amaral began by noting the superior organisation of English police in relation to the Portuguese from his personal experience of living in London. However,

2 0 0 he also noted that police reform in Portugal should be made ‘as much as possible within the Portuguese customs’, in his view, ‘to organise a police force as in England you need to have Englishmen. It is necessary to have strong, tall and stout men, which in itself constitutes enough armaments not to provoke laughs [as was the case with the

Portuguese policemen] when one passes close by (laughs). It is not easy in a peninsular people as ours to find individuals who possess these characteristics and therefore able to impose respect on everyone’.400 The biological stereotypes of the tall and strong northern Europeans and the physically inferior southern Europeans were thus reproduced when discussing police authority.

In the daily life of the force, the concern with bodily appearance and how it affected police authority was expressed in myriad of small details routinely discussed in the daily orders. Two of these will be inspected more closely in the following pages: hair and facial hair, and the habit of smoking on duty. The ‘cleanliness’ of the uniform normally appeared in the daily orders associated with other aspects of personal hygiene.

The hair, the beard or the (more common for that time) moustache assumed particular relevance as their untidiness was quickly recognisable. As David Barrie and Susan

Broomhall have recently stated, ‘masculinity was foundational to the legitimacy, authority and identity of policing work’, the physical appearance was an essential aspect of this representation of policemen’s public image by police leaders and middle ranks 401 Facial hair, in particular, had a double significance: it was an aspect in the public presentation of order and uniformity, as well as a powerful symbol of respectable masculinity and honour. As a late nineteenth-century and early twentieth-century

Portuguese ethnographer, Jose Leite de Vasconcelos, stressed in a study devoted to the subject, facial hair was a prominent sign of manhood and honour and, it should be

400 DCD, 13-05-1908, p.10. 401 Barrie & Broomhall, A History, p. 15.

2 0 1 added, authority especially in southern European countries.402 In a chronology of the evolution of facial hair over time, Vasconcelos places the moustache and other more complex forms of facial hair as being very fashionable for men in the 1870s. He also notes the increasingly growing concern in the military hierarchy with regulating the presentation of facial hair among the soldiery.403

In the early days of Policia Civil and after a number of individual punishments due to uncut hair, for some time policemen were repeatedly warned that they should shave at least twice a week.404 Until the end of the 1870s, this was one of the most frequent reasons for policemen being punished. As the quest for the uniformity of uniform suggested, the concern with well groomed hair and moustaches in particular further emphasises the desire of police chiefs to protect policemen’s public image insofar as it represented the institution, and also the intent to discipline and control the body of police. It is enough to take a quick glance at some photographs to see that police leaders themselves practiced what they preached (Illustration 9). D. Diogo de

Sousa, Policia Civil’s General Commissioner until 1876, must have spent many hours in front of a mirror grooming his legendary moustache. Likewise, police station chief

Pinto Teixeira was well known by Lisbon’s public for his fancy Van Dyke beard; he retired only in the 1900s and was Cristovao Morais Sarmento’s faithful squire and probably the only police station chief to be promoted to police commissioner.

402 Jose Leite de Vasconcelos, A Barba ern Portugal: Estudo de etnografia comparativa, (Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional, 1925), p.95. 403 For the evolution of the growingly more complex military regulations on facial hair and the widespread use of the moustache as a masculine fashion, including among the policemen, see Vasconcelos, A Barba , pp.82-89, 92. 404 ANTT-APCL, NT214 NP076, DO N.25, 25-01-1875, P.l.

2 0 2 Illustration 9 - On the left D. Diogo de Sousa, on the right Pinto Teixeira in 1877.

O Comlss&rlo Pinto TeUelra em 1877 tardado de chele tin Pol.cla Civil

D. Dioao cle Sousa

Source: Ribeiro, Subsi'dios para a historia, p .2 ,13.

As the drawings and photographs spread throughout this work document, it is virtually impossible to find a pictorial representation of Lisbon’s policeman without a moustache. As police were normally recruited in their twenties, it is not hard to imagine that besides following the predominant male fashion, these men used their moustaches as a bodily strategy to emanate an image of authority that would help them in their jobs.

The aspiration for physical neatness, respectability and a protective aura was at the core of the project of civilising the policeman. Naturally, the daily routine transformed this into another zone of contention. Just as with the uniforms, the daily orders directly addressing these issues tend to disappear in the early 1880s. Again two explanations can be devised for this: either policemen began to conform more to the established rules and shaved and cut their hair the required number of times, or the General Commissioner ceased to consider this a relevant issue for the daily order. Probably the correct answer

203 is in the middle: problems with physical tidiness remained, but like many other issues, police leaders left this issue to be handled by police station chiefs in the normal station routine.

Another of the 'discussions' in the daily orders put one of the main gestures of masculinity in this period in the spotlight: smoking. At the end of 1884, a Lisbon daily newspaper wrote: ‘It is not nice to see police constables on their beats with a cigarette in the comer of the mouth, or some of the police station chiefs smoking cigars when they are giving orders to their subordinates’.405 Firstly, it is interesting to note how hierarchy was also represented by what they smoked: constables smoked cigarettes and station chiefs smoked cigars. But, more importantly, this piece came to our attention because it was cited and 'discussed' in a daily order. The general commissioner argued: ‘The newspaper is right. It can be tolerated that policemen smoke when they are on duty, but they must do so with certain seclusion and covertly, otherwise I will have the need to put an end to this tolerance’.406 Smoking when on the beat was tolerated when done the necessary covertness. The disciplinary cases related with smoking in the daily orders were based more on how the policemen smoked than with the fact they were smoking.

For example, in early 1886, guard N.101 of the 1st Division was punished with three extra duties in the station ‘because when he was entering the Boa-Hora Court, on 30

January, where he had gone with the string on his arm (indicative he was on duty) to escort some arrested persons, he asked a soldier from Guarda Municipal for tobacco and [then] gave the tobacco to a prostitute asking her to make him a cigarette’; such behaviour was ‘censured by those who witnessed it’, and. to make the situation even worse, when the guard was ‘being admonished by sergeant N.9 of the 2nd division, [he]

405IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NP082, DO N.7, 07-01-1885, P.3. 406 IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NP082, DO N.7, 07-01-1885, P.3.

204 replied in an insolent and disrespectful manner’.407 He was not punished because he wanted to smoke, but for his manners and the people he involved. Moreover, it is worth noting in this case how the General Commissioner emphasised the fact that he was

‘censured by the public’ and therefore aggravated the punishment.

Smoking was a common problem for other police forces in different parts of the world. In Sao Paulo in the 1870s and 1880s, policemen were allowed to smoke since that act did not involve socialising with the public.408 In England in the early twentieth- century, smoking on duty was a particularly serious fault and could even be a cause of dismissal. However, it was widely acknowledged that the police constables on patrol always found ways to do this even if they had to run some risks. It was such an important issue that permission smoking was among the claims of some of the first professional police associations 409 Whether in Lisbon, Sao • Paulo, Manchester,

Birmingham or Liverpool, the reality on the streets showed that all police constables smoked when on duty, running more or less risks, making it more or less public. This custom was so ingrained in male conduct that it was difficult if not impossible to prohibit the cigarette. It is however how smoking was transformed into a negotiated issue within the organisation which needs to be stressed here and the direct effect it had on the conduct of the men on the streets.

At least for Lisbon, it is not difficult to imagine that police leaders did not consider smoking on duty in the streets the ideal behaviour for the policemen. However, an evaluation of the question based on past experiences and a pragmatic sense that marked, for example, the character of the general commissioner Cristovao Morais

407IAN/TT-APCL, NT220 NP083, DO N.33, 02-02-1886, P.l. See also IAN/TT-APCL, NT220 NP083, DO N0186, 05-07-1886, P.4. In which a guard was disrespectful to his station chief when giving him an order on the street, claiming the guard ‘was lightning a cigarette which he then started smoking’. 408 Andre Rosemberg, De chumbo e festim: uma histdria da policia paulista no final do Imperio (Sao Paulo: Edusp/Fapesp, 2010), p.310. 409 Joanne Klein, Invisible Men: The secret lives of police constables in Liverpool, Manchester and Birmingham, 1900-1939 (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2010), pp. 22, 72, 89, 163-164. 205 Sarmento, led to a compromise solution negotiated between commissioners, station

chiefs and guards. As was already noted, the discipline in the police assumed much

more evident negotiation contours than in the army, where there was much more physical proximity in the relationships established between commanders and soldiers in their routines and thus tighter control and fewer opportunities to transgress. In the police, when men were alone on their beats they could transgress almost all the time without the worry of being punished. Police leaders knew this so they had to use the strategy of negotiating and compromising. The difference between police and army on this matter was directly perceived and complaints were made by the policemen themselves about it. Police constable N.107 of the 2nd Division was smoking a cigarette, probably lit on his way to the police station, when entering the parade in front of the station just before the patrol that was due to start at midnight and 45 minutes on

September 6, 1888. When reprimanded by the police station chief, the guard ‘replied he was not a soldier to be asked to throw the cigarette away’.410 Although inspired by military discipline practices, the control of men in an urban police organisation required distinct dynamics given the autonomy given to policemen in their working practices. As much as uniforms or personal cleanliness, smoking represented organisational everyday life made of rules and behavioural standards that were constructed in a negotiated process more than ones set by the government and senior hierarchy to be followed by the rank and file. These rules were set, resisted and/or incorporated by the men in a dynamic everyday life process. In this context, the chapter now turns to the strategies devised within the force to inculcate these habits in the policemen and the correct ways to perform their jobs.

410 IAN/TT-APCL, NT224 NP087, DO N.261, 07-09-1888, P.6.

206 5.3. Training the policeman: between political reforms and station socialisation

The rise of the policeman as a full-time worker and the professionalisation of police forces in the nineteenth and early twentieth century have led historians to raise a series of questions about police organisation and internal socialisation processes in which the training (or lack of it) given to the men in the rank and file takes particular relevance.411

All over Europe, the pressures on police effectiveness and discussions about correct police behaviour in public opinion forced the authorities to take action with regard to training policemen. Internally, the growing concern with training denotes the will to achieve uniform behaviour on the streets and more effective hierarchical discipline. The creation of initial periods of training for new recruits was a typical measure until later in the nineteenth century. However, training continued to be essentially regarded as being done on the job, through work experience and organisational socialisation. Later on, in the early twentieth century, governments and policemen in search of ways to improve

‘their’ profession’s image promoted the increase in training time, greater complexity of the curriculum and the institutionalisation of schools to train policemen.

Historians’ arguments on this process have oscillated between two different standpoints: the creation of schools and the publishing of manuals is normally interpreted as a sign of professionalisation and emergence of more specialised policing techniques, typically associated to criminal investigation or public order maintenance; or, normally when focusing on the ordinary beat patrolman, it is tacitly assumed that training solely through individual working experience prevails with little or no intervention from senior managers. In general, historians have looked more to police

411 Shpayer-Makov, The Making of a Policeman, pp.98-109; Jean-Marc Beliere ‘La Professionnalisation: revendication des policiers et objectif des pouvoirs au debut de la Ille Republique’, Revue d ’Histoire Moderne et Contemporaine, 1990, vol.XXXVII, pp.398-428; Spencer, Police and Social Order in German Cities, pp.102-108; Emsley ‘The policeman as a worker’, pp.89-110.

207 manuals, their production and contents, than to the actual practices of communicating them.412 Moreover, the problem of training is not just a matter of form but also content and objectives of police training. Training was essentially seen as a tool in the

‘civilising process of policing practices’ as identified by Anja Johansen and already cited in the introduction.413

The case of Lisbon on one hand helps to see that the opposition between school and on the job training is more blurred than might be first thought as the police station is a mid-point between the street and the school. On the other hand, it provides a closer look at the concerns and objectives about training in a common European urban police force in late nineteenth-century. The institutionalisation of training schools did not reflect a whole new world of professional, technical and scientific police, nor was training from the everyday working experience so informal and outside of hierarchical control as sometimes thought. As shall be seen in the following, the centrality of the station and the police station chief in the training of Lisbon policemen indicates that an examination of the daily operations in the station houses’ socialisation routine will perhaps reveal more about the establishment of policing behavioural standards and the production and reproduction of police knowledge than the recruitment training period or the creation of formal and autonomous training schools. To conclude some issues raised here, the following part of the chapter will examine the limits and boundaries of the state in relation to the circulation of this knowledge, by examining the rise of a professional identity in Lisbon police. Although usually taken as closed institutions, from this perspective the police appear much more open to society than one would initially expect.

412 See for example, Garrioch, ‘The paternal government’; McCormack, ‘«A species of civil soldier»’; Mori, ‘Becoming policemen’; Shpayer-Makov, ‘Shedding the uniform’; Wilson, ‘«Well-set-up men»’. 413 Anja Johansen ‘A process of civilisation? Legitimisation of violent policing in Prussian and French police manuals and instructions, 1880-1914’, European Review of History—Revue Europeenne d ’Histoire, 2007, vol.l4(l), pp.49-71 (p.49).

208 The early years of Policia Civil were not easy, the image of the policeman as someone without instruction and culture and easily corrupted were publicly expressed in popular pamphlets.474 Significantly, some of the fiercest criticism came from within the state machine itself. In January 1870 for instance, in a murder case in which half Lisbon seemed to know where the suspects were without the police doing anything, a senior official in the Ministry of Interior informed the Minister that:

‘Therefore an institution that could be so useful to the inhabitants of the city, and so expensive it is to the government, has been gradually undermined and is seen with some wariness by all who applauded it[s] creation]. The lack of supervision of the police service is noteworthy; the transgressions committed by the policemen occur repeatedly, they are permanently distracted, chatting during working hours, entering uniformed in public houses, imposing non-authorised fines, and sometimes taking the money [from the fines] or reaching [illegal] agreements with the individuals they fine.415

It was probably as a reaction to these striking criticisms that the first half of the

1870s was marked by constant concern inside Policia Civil with police training. This is demonstrated by successive daily orders setting up more formalised training procedures.

The law that created the police in 1867 did not establish any period of instruction prior to recruits entering the service. Thus, it is not hard to imagine that policemen had no more than rudimentary knowledge of the law and the ideal behaviour in the service.

Police commissioners tried to change this situation from at least the early 1870s. In May

1873, the General Commissioner - from a recommendation made previously by the

Civil Governor - ordered ‘that the police station chiefs in their respective stations instruct sergeants and guards in the practice of their obligations’. In these instructions, the police station chiefs should especially explain the rules of the police force and the content of municipal bylaws. The method would be to ‘explain to them in a practical

414 Carlos de Almeida O Policia Civil: Cangoneta Comica: Parodia ao antigo zelador municipal (Lisbon: Diogo Seromenho Editor, 1879). 415IAN/TT-MR, Mg.3076, Lv°19, N°1680.

209 way how to perform the different functions that the laws put this police force in charge

of. The times and places where these ‘instructions’ would take place were formally established. Station chiefs should:

‘Gather in their offices at 8 pm on every Saturday to Tuesday the sergeants and guards of their stations, including those who are in special services or are employed in the offices, because all men should be equally instructed [.] And there, after assembling the men, each one should ask them [the police station chiefs] questions with respect to any article or provision of the regulations and municipal bylaws, directing them appropriately [;] and should in these meetings maintain the order and seriousness, giving [to the General Commissioner] notice of those who were missing when they are warned. (...) I also recommend to all guards of this police force that when possible should devote themselves to the reading and study of the indicated book [the bylaws code].416

These sessions entered police routines. Skipping the ‘instruction school’ became a motive to punish police constables.477 As happened elsewhere, the option for an

‘example and image pedagogy’ was evident as was the demand for self discipline and dedication in the pursuit of a more systematic knowledge of the law and police work.475

Whether in the daily parade in front of the police station before leaving for the beat, or in these training sessions inside the station, it is the centrality of the police station chiefs role in the production and transmission of what can be termed police knowledge that stands out. They did not do this autonomously or independently; they were called on a regular basis to the General Commissariat for meetings where they received instructions on how to correctly train the men in their stations. In addition to the operational command of policing practices, police station chiefs had thus an essential role as transmitters of the ideal qualities of a policeman and policing practices envisaged above.

416IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, DO N.134, 14-05-1873, P.l. 417 For example IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, DO N.231, 19-08-1873, P.4. Where guard n.81 of 2nd Division was punished with six additional duties for, among other things, not attending the Saturday night training, claiming he was sick which was proved to be false. 418 Beliere, ‘La Professionnalisation’, p.402.

2 1 0 The formal and printed manuals in the 1870s and part of the 1880s should not mislead us into thinking that police and policing ideal-types were not internally constructed from work experience. Daily orders, the most important of which were copied to books called ‘permanent orders’ found in all police stations, were the vital repository of formal and not-so-formal rules in this period and they had to be transmitted to new recruits and the rest of the police force were regularly reminded of them.479 Most of these orders normally finished with the sentence that police station chiefs should make their content clear in their training sessions. In general, they combined a description and interpretation of the law with pragmatic advice on their effective implementation. In fact, they constitute a much richer source for observing the delineation of policing orienting categories than many formal, printed manuals.

Speaking of nineteenth century Italy, Simona Mori stated that gender profiles remained invisible in Italian police manuals because policemen worked in a male working environment. To begin with, although all police personnel were male, policemen’s

‘working environment’ can hardly be identified as male dominated. On a beat patrol in a populated area of the city, they would routinely interact with women. Women were indeed present in the policeman’s working environment. And this was acknowledged in

Lisbon’s police daily orders where gender constituted a truly ‘discourse-orienting category’.420 Either in the category ‘ senhoras ’, meaning middle-class ladies, or the more obvious ‘prostitute’, alone and in opposition to each other, gender was frequently represented in the daily orders and central to understanding the dichotomisation of who should be controlled and who protected that characterised all police discourse. Gender is only one example showing how daily orders functioned as guides for action in policing practices but there are many others.

419 Normally General Commissioners specifically indicated which orders were ‘permanent’, but it is also believed that station chiefs had a degree of autonomy to add other orders. 420 Mori ‘Becoming policemen...’, p. 102.

2 1 1 One of the main concerns in these orders refers to the legitimacy of policing practices, not just in a mere formalistic form but as a matter evoked when referring to concrete occurrences. In this context, a phrase stands out that was repeated systematically over the years: the police should always 'proceed with firmness but at the same time with the utmost prudence, moderation and good sense’. AO 1 To make policemen aware of the importance of a proportionate use of force, police commissioners resorted, among others strategies to the examples from abroad: ‘the police in foreign countries are noted for great courtesy and kindness, and I would much appreciate that the same could be said of the police in Lisbon’.422 It was also with the purpose of framing police constables in an ideal of policing that these orders proceeded to regular exercises of social classification. Categories like the foreign, the provincial, the lads, the passengers of public transports, old people, drunkards, the insane, or ladies and prostitutes were social classifications routinely inserted and explained in the daily orders. Permanent daily orders were the primary means of communication of a shared (or intended to be shared) police culture that combined legal interpretation with an assessment of existing social conditions.

The evening training sessions in the station were not permanent and several orders testify to the regular termination and re-introduction of these sessions. In January

1874, for example, the General Commissioner reintroduced the ‘instruction’ sessions425 and a few months later he discontinued the ‘training conducted at police stations’, hinting at what would happen later that year.424 In December 1874, a new form of training was created. The instruction sessions, which were now to take place every

Monday in two hour sessions, were transferred from the stations to the three existing

421 For example in IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NP082, DO Nol61, 10-06-1885, P.l. 422 IAN/TT-APCL, NT224 NP087, DO N.26, 17-09-1888, P.l. 423 IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, DO N.27, 27-01-1874, P.l. 424 IAN/TT-APCL, NT214 NP076, DO N.187, 06-07-1874, P.5.

2 1 2 commissariats. The ‘instructors’ would however continue to be police station chiefs who were yet again called to the General Commissariat to ‘receive instructions on how to conduct this service’. In small groups, and preferably with ‘those men that have less work experience’, the sessions would continue to be focused on the study of law and examples of occurrences.425

The objective of the General Commissioner with this move was clear: he was trying to remove the training from the everyday life of police stations and therefore formalise and gain greater control over what was taught to the men of Policia Civil and how. When, in September 1876, the training of the guards was temporarily assigned to the main registrar of the force (Escrivao), a graduate in law, the main justification given was the need for uniformity in the training of the men.425 Apparently, the multiplication of occurrences in which policemen were not acting according to the legal provisions and internal rules led to the Commissioner General taking great care to monitor police training. For example, when guard N.72 of the 3rd Division had made ‘an arbitrary arrest’ detaining an individual at request of another allegedly because the former owed money to the latter, he was punished with a ‘harsh’ reprimand by the Commissioner. On this occasion, he reminded police station chief Teixeira, under whom the guard in question served and by that time in charge of the instruction of the guards of the 3rd

Division, that he should be more ‘comprehensive when it comes to instructing the guards, especially with those who show more ignorance’.427 Despite the trust accorded to police station chiefs in matters of training, they were not immune to criticism and the ineffectiveness of their lessons was sometimes invoked in the daily orders. On one occasion, after a policeman had abusively broke down the door of adwelling entering private premises, the General Commissioner stated:

425 IAN/TT-APCL, NT214 NP076, DO N.352, 18-12-1874, P.l. 426 IAN/TT-APCL, NT215 NP077, DO N.264, 20-09-1876, P.L 427 IAN/TT-APCL, NT214 NP076, DO N .l 12, 22-04-1875, P.6. 213 ‘This and other misconducts by new and inexperienced guards results from the fact that police station chiefs are not zealous enough in the instruction of their subordinates and the experience is showing that the lessons of some chiefs have given a clear negative result, therefore (...) I recommend to the chiefs of all police stations to make known to their subordinates what their duties are in the many and varied circumstances in which the guards could find themselves.’428

Less than ten years after being created, in 1876, Policia Civil was subject to its first reform by the government. Besides the increase in the number of men employed, this reform focused on two management issues concerning the body of men that comprised the force: the introduction of an initial training period of the new recruits in an ‘instruction school’ for a maximum period of thirty days, and the creation of a pension fund.429 In the initial period of training, the recruits already had a salary, although smaller, and could perform some basic services accompanied by an experienced policeman. At the end of this period, and after a gradual integration into the work routine, the policeman was definitely hired or fired. In this reform, the dynamic between political decision and organisational strategy was not necessarily one in which the former commanded the latter. Before the political decision was taken there were already practices inside the police structure in this regard. The government decision to establish formal training procedures reinforced something that was already taking place in the organisation. The government reform strengthened and formalised something that was already being felt inside the police force since the early 1870s. The existence of an initial period of training of police constables would not have been unknown to the

Portuguese politicians in the 1860s. The lessons of practical experience were however

428 IAN/TT-APCL, NT215 NP077, DO N.281, 07-10-1876, P.3. 429 Policia Civil General Regulation, 21-12-1876, Chapter VIII. As stated in the law, the subjects to be taught in this school were: to teach laws and other regulations; exercise the guards in writing reports about police occurrences, make them aware that police constables’ mission is essentially beneficial and protective and that good service is not the ostentation of numerous occurrences and is the actions taken to prevent crimes and misdemeanours by warning and counsel. In 1889 the training period in the Metropolitan Police was three weeks, see Shpayer-Makov, The Making of a Policeman, p. 100.

214 necessary to press for change; change that showed its first signs within the organisation and then went into the political process.

In the parliamentary discussion of the 1876 police reform the figure of the policeman returned to the centre of the political debate, as it had in the previous decade.

The Interior Minister stressed: ‘we cannot admit that those who are responsible for maintaining the respect of the law and of the public authorities are not themselves the most faithful and respectful performers of regulatory requirements of their service and of superior orders’.430 One of the most common arguments in the discussion was that policemen did not know the laws they were supposed to oversee. Hierarchical discipline was also identified as a problem, or in the words of the parliamentary commission in charge of studying the question, the need for a stricter ‘fixation of service relationships’ 431 The length of police training was seen as one of the main solutions to both problems. Within Policia Civil in the following years, the term "instruction school" definitively entered the vocabulary of the daily orders. In 1885, for example, it is possible to see that the thirty day period was in fact applied.432

The subject of police training gained renewed prominence in the last decade of the century. In Europe, this tumultuous decade of peaking urbanisation, economic deprivation and political struggles exposed the inadequacies of the police, and the lack of technical training was lamented first by the police officials themselves. A ' l ' l In Lisbon, in the 1893 police reform training was again a central issue considered by the government. With the appointment of an army officer as General Commandant and the entry of some military officers in the police structure, the spectre of the militarisation of

430 DCD, 08-03-1875, p.739. 431 DCD, 18-01-1876, p.32. 432 IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NP082, DO N. 1/2/3, 1/2/3-01-1885, P.l When a large number of new recruits were admitted into the police. They were given as ready by the instruction school in DO N.39, 08-02- 1885, P.l. 433 For the case of Italy see Jonathan DunnageThe Italian Police and the Rise of Fascism: a case study of the province of Bologna, 1897-1925 (Westport, Conn: Praeger, 1997), p.12. 215 Policia Civil was central to the debate. Joao Franco, the prime minister, defending his liberal purity, readily put the ghost of militarisation aside in the preamble of the decree that reformed the police. According to him, military leadership was justified because army officers were more accustomed to disciplining and instructing ‘groups of men’ without it meaning any kind of danger to citizens’ rights. The 1893 reform extended the period of training to a maximum of two months, during which, like before, the recruit could do some light services; it also introduced a final exam that would enable the recruit to enter the police. The objectives of the training and the subjects taught remained essentially the same, with one notable exception. Unlike in 1876, this new reform instituted physical exercises during the training period. In fact, a movement began at this time which would see the physical training of policemen gain more and more prominence in the following decades. In the end, the sensitive issue of militarisation was, at least in the eyes of the government, limited to the training and discipline of police constables and police hierarchical structure.434 Without any significant changes in the following decades, this was the formal schema of training until 1910. Overall, while the main concern in training practices was to integrate and control men in their job, the results of training practices were much wider in the organisational shaping of this police force.

The rise and circulation of a professional identity

The death of Cristovao Morais Sarmento in September 1906 marked the end of an era.

The old commissioner had been in Policia Civil since its formation in 1867. The newspapers of the city reported his funeral in some detail. It is significant that the only

434“Reforma dos Servifos Policiais de Lisboa” of 28-08-1893, Secgao III, art. 8°, 9°. 10°; Regulamento Geral do Corpo de Policia Civil de Lisboa de 12-04-1894, Cap. IX. 216 relevant political figure who attended was responsible for the 1893 police reform: Joao

Franco. More importantly, however, numerous members of the Policia Civil were present: police leaders, with the exception of Judge Veiga, police station chiefs and other anonymous policemen.435 The image conveyed was one of a professional group paying tribute to one of its founders, showing that group identity was consolidating. In fact, from the end of the century a number of individuals and their deeds reveal policemen had a stronger ‘professional voice’. In addition, this voice was reaching places outside police stations. Some prominent examples: Alfredo Cesar Macedo de

Faria was bom in the island of Madeira in 1877. He joined Lisbon’s Policia Civil in

1897 at the age of twenty. In the following years, he patrolled the streets but also served in the Criminal Investigation branch. In 1900 he left for the Policia Civil of Ponta

Delgada in Azores Islands. The police force was being formed there at that time - the last of all district capitals in Portugal to create a Policia Civil force; he took the post of police station chief and in the following years, for brief periods, he even acted as

Commissioner. In July 1910, he was dismissed in a case where he was convicted in court with a fine because of a discussion with a civilian over how the police was enforcing the new weekly rest law in Ponta Delgada. He argued that his dismissal was for political and private issues.436 Carlos Correa Sampaio never joined Lisbon’s police.

Instead, in 1894 he joined to the Policia Civil of Covilha, an industrial town in the interior of the country. He was rapidly promoted to police station chief. Despite being confined to a small provincial town, he maintained contacts with other police forces and fellow policemen. Alexandre Morgado joined Lisbon’s Policia Civil in 1880 at the bottom of the hierarchy. Five years later, he was promoted to sergeant and in February

Diario de Notfcias, 28-09-1906. 436 IAN/TT-MI, Mq.41, L°62, N°631 and Mg.51, L°64, N°165.

217 1896 to police station chief.437 Besides street work in the early days of his career, he served in the General Commissariat and in the Criminal Investigation and

Administrative Police branches. In the 1920s he was still serving in Lisbon’s police.

What is common to these three individuals is that they constitute the most public examples of the police’s internal reflection about police as an institution and as a profession. The first, Macedo de Faria, published a lengthily pamphlet entitled ‘The

Reform of the Police’ in October of 1908 after sending it to the prime minister.438 The second, Correa de Sampaio, published a police manual in 1905 through Coimbra’s

University Press which was the most complete until the 1930s and which he dedicated to Lisbon’s General Commandant.439 Finally, from early the 1890s Morgado published a wide range of publications ranging from pieces in daily newspapers to the official police statistics. All three were aware of and discussed each others’ works. These three individuals were the exponents of what can be termed a ‘canteen culture’ more prominently in Lisbon, but that due to police mobility was also noticed in other provincial police forces. Some key characteristics of this culture that can be identified in these publications are the ‘sense of mission’, ‘desire for action’, ‘“Us/Them” division from the social world with its consequent in-group isolation and solidarity’,

‘authoritarian conservatism’ and ‘suspicion and cynicism, especially towards the law and legal procedures’.440 These cases exemplify that the material growth of police forces and other internal and external transformations witnessed from the second half of the 1880s promoted a growing awareness and discussion among policemen of their

437 Branco e Negro: Semanario Ilustrado, n°46, 14-02-1897. 438 Alfredo Cesar Macedo de Faria, A Reforma da Policia (Ponta Delgada: Typ. Ruy Moraes, 1908). 439 Carlos Correa de Sampaio, Manual da Policia Civil: Pratico e Portatil (Coimbra: Imprensa da Universidade, 1905). 440 P. A. J. Waddington ‘Police (canteen) sub-culture: an appreciation’ inBritish Journal of Criminology, 1999, vol. 39(2), pp.287-309 (p.287). The work of Alfredo Faria, especially, is a strong example of this.

218 occupational context and their role in society. It is the emergence of this professional identity that will be examined in the following pages.

Another common feature in these three individuals’ career paths is that they had all been police station chiefs for longer or shorter periods of time. Despite the fact that army officers occupied a prominent place in the whole functioning of the organisation from 1893 onwards, particularly in the area of training, police station chiefs maintained a key role in the production and transmission of police knowledge until 1910. In the

General Regulation of Policia Civil promulgated in April 1894, one of the many duties of the station chiefs was to ‘make theories’ about the law and the various types of police occurrence in order to instruct their subordinates. Although it is difficult to accurately determine the extent to which these ‘theories’ functioned, in fact past experience indicates that they continued to punctuate police station life. Indeed, despite all the changes in police training, station chiefs remained of central importance in this matter over the years. But while is known that they played a significant role, little however is known about what they were really saying in their stations. Their ‘voices’ echoed only inside the organisation and were scarcely recorded. As shown in the three cited cases, this had begun to change in the last decade of the nineteenth century. During this period, the first pocket-sized manual books and other publications where the station chiefs appear as protagonists started to be published. Indeed, this change cannot be disconnected from the professionalisation process and the construction of a professional identity. In fact, the creation and strengthening of a professional identity in Lisbon’s police is one of the consequences of the option taken in the 1870s to give police station chiefs the main role in the training of the men and placing this training in the everyday life of police stations. Especially among middle ranks, composed of older men and with a more active sense of career and profession, the construction of a sense of ‘police

219 profession’ was mingled with the training of new men. Another notable result of the guiding role and strengthening of professional identity of station chiefs was that their

'voice' began reaching other audiences beyond the strict limits of the police organisation.

Alexandre Morgado and Romao Ferreira, along with doctors, journalists and other policemen participated in a quarterly journal published between 1896 and 1908 that was later collected later in seven volumes of about 200 pages each entitled ‘The

Gallery of Famous Criminals in Portugal: history of contemporary criminology’. Being a policeman was already a family tradition for Romao Ferreira: his father had been one of the most prominent founding figures of Policia Civil at the end of the 1860s and

1870s. Alexandre Morgado is the image of someone who entered in the police and made a career. His example is particularly illustrative of the consolidation of knowledge produced and reproduced by the police station chiefs. Having published about thirty books between the late nineteenth century and the 1920s, Alexandre Morgado was the editor of numerous collections of police regulations, penal and civil codes and municipal bylaws codes in small pocket-size books that reached several editions. More than mere collections of laws, these were the police training manuals. Also in the institutional context, Morgado was responsible for the preparation and publication of the official police statistics before and after the implantation of the Republic. Morgado was widely perceived in Lisbon society as a specialist on public safety issues. For example, in the early 1920s, Dr Arlindo Monteiro relied on his expertise to explore the hypothetical link between homosexuality and the world of crime in Lisbon.441 Outside the scope of police, Morgado became known as the author of Lisbon city guides for travellers and dwellers. Through these publications, some of the police knowledge that

441 Arlindo Monteiro, Amor Safico e Socratico (Lisbon: Instituto de Medicina Legal de Lisboa, 1922), pp. 193, 197-198, 201-203.

2 2 0 had only been heard in police stations in previous decades gained a printed written form during the 1890s, reaching new and broader audiences. For the argument of this chapter, attention will be focused on exploring the annotated compilations of bylaws and other police regulations and The Gallery of Famous Criminals.

More than any other legal source, the municipal bylaws occupied much of the attention and time of Lisbon policemen, not only because they were the legal basis for many of the police occurrences but also because they were subject to repeated changes forcing the policemen to be constantly updated. In the police’s everyday language, the

‘code’ was not the Criminal Code but the Municipal Bylaws Code.442 And if the General

Regulations of Policia Civil are added to the Municipal Bylaws Code, the two pieces that comprised most of the instructions given to policemen during training are identified. Each policeman had to own a copy of the two.445 The purchase of these books was an expense that all policemen had to bear. Although compiled by the police to provide updated versions of the legislation and a support to the lessons and ‘theories’ given by police station chiefs, these codes were not only consulted and read within the police. They had in fact a double mission: they served as police manuals but also as codes of civility to a wider urban audience.

The spread of knowledge of the bylaws code among the people of Lisbon was a concern of the authorities. In 1885, a former Lisbon councilman complained in

Parliament about the constant application of fines by the police to the people who, in his words, was already living in enough difficulty. Moreover, these recurrent events happened mostly when the public did not know the origin and reason for these fines. He then recalled a proposal he had made in his Municipal Council days that ‘the code of municipal bylaws be sold in a cheap book’, allowing it to become ‘so public that

442 IAN/TT-APCL, NT218 NP081, DO N.90, 31-03-1883, P.l. 443 IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, OS N.108, 18-04-1873, P.2.

2 2 1 everyone would know its rules and be warned not to incur in certain faults’.444 The multiplication of editions of the municipal bylaws445 and other police regulations446 compiled and edited by Alexandre Morgado from the late 1880s reveals not only the growing number of policemen that needed these compilations in their jobs but also their greater use in the day-to-day life of ‘the public’ for whom the knowledge of these laws was important to avoid fines or make complaints about police actions. Who was this

‘public’ to whom the code of bylaws was of interest? A systematic answer to this question is perhaps impossible now, but an approximation can be made. For instance,

Lisbon’s shopkeepers would certainly be among the buyers of these codes. In the 1860s, the increasing number of fines due to the creation of Policia Civil sparked a conflict between shopkeepers and public authorities which was at the root of the creation of the

Commercial Association of Shopkeepers of Lisbon.447 In the following decades, the conflict remained and resulted in the creation of a Commission of Fines inside the association. Shopkeepers are just one example but others could be added such as bakers and cab drivers. All lived in constant conflict with the police, and knowledge of the law that could lead them to being fined or even detained was a necessary competence in urban daily life.

These small pocket books ‘compiled and annotated’ by Alexandre Morgado were not a mere repository of legislation, a ‘catechism of legality’ as the author called them, they also contained other relevant elements of police knowledge. 448 To begin with, the selection of the legislation to be included was not a simple, formal and neutral practice but was already a procedure of establishing policing priorities. One example:

444 DCD, 01-07-1885, p.2785. 445 Alexandre Morgado,Codigo de posturas do municipio de Lisboa de 30 de Dezembro de 1886: devidamente ampliado e anotado, (Lisbon: Empresa a Legislagao, 8th Edition, 1912). 446 Alexandre Morgado,Regulamentos policiaes, (Lisbon: Typ. Palhares, 4th Edition, 1898). 447 Daniel Alves ‘A Republica atras do balcao. Os lojistas de Lisboa na fase final da Monarquia (1870- 1910)’ (PhD Thesis, Lisbon: New University of Lisbon, 2010), pp. 173-195, 199-200, footnote n.649 p.289. 448 Morgado, Regulamentos, without page number.

2 2 2 by introducing obscure laws regulating the admission of patients at St. Joseph Hospital

(the main hospital of the city), the coordinator of these books was already establishing practical boundaries in police work. The transcription of passages from daily orders, which imprinted doctrines of enforcement procedures of certain bylaws or police regulations, is the clearest example of how something that in principle should only circulate within police structure extended to a wider audience. After the fire at Baquet

Theatre in Oporto in 1888, which killed more than two hundred people and shocked

Lisbon and Oporto society, a commission of ‘technical experts’ was appointed, including the General Commissioner of Policia Civil, which introduced new regulations for theatre owners, but also defined more clearly the ‘duties that the police have to meet in case of fire or general panic in a theatre’.449 The introduction of these regulations in this book not only helped train policemen but also elucidated the public. Another feature of these books was the reproduction of articles published elsewhere and that could help both the policemen and the public in their daily lives.450 An example of this is the reproduction of an article published in the magazine Agricultura Nacional on canine rabies.451 In the eyes of police chiefs and commissioners, extending the general culture of policemen would increase police effectiveness.

The Gallery of Famous Criminals was presented as a work of ‘research and study’ for professionals moving in the criminal justice field: doctors, judges, barristers and police constables.452 But looking at the success of the first volume, which forced the editor to ‘reprint some of the issues’, the public who was interested in this publication spread far beyond the ‘professionals’ expected by the organisers of the publication since the beginning. The Gallery was structured in biographical pieces of the most famous

449 Morgado, Regulamentos, pp.104-105, 107-110 (II part). 450 One example is the orders given about the detention of vagrants, Morgado,Regulamentos, p.l nota 1 (II parte). 451 Morgado, Regulamentos, pp.160-164 (II part). 452 Vol. VI, 1908, p.l

223 Portuguese criminals, presenting their crimes, how they were detained by the authorities and respective trials. Most of the reported cases were of men and women whose

‘achievements’ had occurred in the 1870s and 1880s, and were therefore still very present in the public memory. Other chapters consisted of the ‘scientific’ writings of

Ferraz de Macedo, a doctor who introduced the most modem criminological theories and anthropology methods of the time into Portugal. In later volumes, the publication diversified its contents and some chapters addressing social problems such as alcoholism or prostitution appeared.

The Gallery was the printed pedagogy of the above-mentioned ‘example and image’, and accessible to a wider audience. The transition from the oral lessons in police stations to the written form of printed books was not, however, a radical change.

Many traces of words heard in police stations remained in the Gallery. Like in some orders, the introduction of volume I to classifies and categorises types of ‘ gatunos\ or, as the Gallery puts it, the Portuguese equivalent to the English pickpocket or the French filou.453 The Gallery was the closest thing there was until the appearance of the Policia

Portuguesa in 1937 to a corporate magazine acting in defence of the police and serving as a way of instructing policemen. In a piece about a criminal who had disguised himself as policeman it was written: ‘he entitled himself as policeman, shameless of usurping the sacred rights of a class that has the noble and thankless task of defending ourselves from evildoers’.454 Often praise of the police and of police officers in particular appeared in the pages of the gallery, in particular but not limited to the articles written by Romao Ferreira and Alexandre Morgado.

The pages of the Gallery allow us to identify the constmction of a shared memory of the institution through the narrative of the most important or famous

453 Vol 1 ,1896, p.3 454 Vol.1,1896, p. 196.

224 services and small biographical notes of the most significant figures of the institution also appeared (for example the piece on C. Morais Sarmento quoted in the previous chapter). In fact, police history gave rise to other publications. In two volumes (with

Aleaxandre Morgado in the direction of the second), the editors of the Gallery published

‘Ancient and Modem Police: History of civil and military police in Portugal’ in 1905.455

Using the examples of cases where the investigation revealed Lisbon policemen’s astuteness and even the ability to guess, the Gallery promoted the esprit de corps and the enhancement of the profession. Police officers’ criticism of certain aspects of how the criminal justice system was functioning are also significant entries: the courts and judicial authorities are criticised for their slowness and lightness of sentences, a situation that was changing with the legislation on criminal recidivism; the press is also criticised because the modem techniques employed by ‘reporters’ interfered with investigations; and also the state of prisons, especially Limoeiro (the city’s main prison), because it was a school for criminals. The Gallery was also used by police chiefs to respond to criticism of police inefficiency in the press and the ‘ungrateful public’.456 In their own words, if London’s police was not able to resolve the

Whitechapel crimes, how could Lisbon police resolve every case. The Gallery together with the manuals or the pamphlets written by police officers are all signs of the professional identity that had been developing in police stations from the 1870s and was more solidified and reaching a wider audience by the end of the nineteenth century.

Conclusion

455Alexandre Morgado,Policia Antiga e Moderna: Historia da Policia Civil e Militar em Portugal, (Lisbon: Almanach Palhares, 1905). 456 Vol.I, 1896, p. 196.

225 In this chapter, attention was focused on the beat policeman, their integration within the police force and the strategies devised to foster individual authority. In this context, the physical constitution of the policemen was essential not only to the public image and the legitimacy of the police but also to the concrete practice of policing and police authority on the streets. This sheds light on the emphasis placed within the force particularly in the 1870s on having a neat moustache which was a central symbol of manliness, honour and authority. Spaces and occasions were created to integrate new recruits and shape the behaviours of the more experienced men. The station and the police station chief always retained a central place in the training given to police constables despite the changes introduced, i.e. the creation of ‘schools of instruction’ in

1876 and the militarisation of training in 1893. Regardless of the recurrent criticisms of policemen in the newspapers, a Lisbon police constable certainly had a greater knowledge of the law and of the ideal behaviour of the police in 1910 than in 1870. In this sense, it is possible to acknowledge the modernisation change of training which, although in some aspects incipient, laid the foundations for the profound changes introduced later in the 1920s and 1930s. Police integration on the job by their superiors was the ground where the awareness of a professional identity was nurtured. The perception by policemen that they belonged to an occupational ‘class’ emerged in the last decade of the nineteenth century. Finally, one further question arises: how far was the ideal policeman presented in training from the concrete practices in the streets?

However much policemen were taught about ideal policing, this practice ultimately depended on the individual policeman’s decisions. It is to this individuality of policing practice and how it was managed within the force that this work now turns.

226 6. Patrolling the streets, performing authority

This chapter aims to examine the practice and some of the results of police action on the streets of Lisbon, how these practices were organisationally constructed and how they influenced and were influenced by what was happening on the streets. As seen in chapter 2, the modernisation movement began in the 1860s as a political project of institutional reform which embodied ideas of modem bureaucracy and accountability.

As a consequence of the institutional reform - the main outcome of which was the creation of the Policia Civil - the following years witnessed a process of organisational shaping which was examined in chapters 3, 4 and 5. In institutional and organisational terms, it was a project envisaged by politicians and police leaders that aimed to endow

Lisbon with a competent, efficient, and morally honest body of professional policemen.

These intentions were routinely challenged by what the superior authorities considered the misbehaviour of a large and difficult-to-control body of men. This chapter aims to deepen the analysis of what police leaders conceived to be the ideal ‘policeman’ and

‘policing’ from the perspective of the results and representations of interactions between the policemen and the policed that emerged from the streets. By contrasting the discourse of daily orders with police returns and other public representations of police relations with the public, internal discussions of policing practices and their results as they were published in police statistics and the public’s perception of police will be contrasted. A consistent assumption throughout the chapter is that an ‘idea of police’ which was the ‘effect of police encounters over time’, emerged in Lisbon’s society in this period.457

457 Domicio Proenga Junior & Jacqueline Muniz, ‘’’Stop or I’ll call the police!”The idea of police, or the effects of police encounters over time’, British Journal of Criminology, 2006, vol.46(2), pp.234-257 (pp.242-243).

227 The pages that follow examine the process of ‘doing policing’ from the point of view of policemen’s performance of authority. That is to say, the approach takes a situational perspective where gestures and objects became main focuses of attention.

This perspective considers the social and organisational constraints present in the policemen’s acts (and in the public’s response), but also acknowledges the fluidity and fragmented nature of ‘occasions’. ‘Calling the police’, arresting or fining someone, the whistle or the straitjackets used to arrest truculent drunks are hence examples of actions and objects that take here centre stage in our examination. The chapter begins with a brief discussion of how beat patrols were organised and the conditions in which policemen operated when on the streets. It moves on to the question that was answered and re-answered every day in the daily orders: what should the policeman do when patrolling the city streets? As will be shown, the establishment of policing priorities was a dynamic process rather than just a legal prescription. Still at the level of the discourse of daily orders but with an eye on what was happening on the streets, it will be seen how policemen were instructed on how they should do their jobs. Police chiefs perceived the legitimacy of police authority through a proper relationship between policemen and the population to be vital. As will be seen, the disciplinary action taken against officers who behaved incorrectly and whose mistakes were exposed to the whole force in the daily orders is highlighted as a means of perceiving and examining this conceptualisation. Finally, the chapter concludes with the results that emerged from the streets by examining the available police returns for this period among other sources.

Police historians and other social scientists have in general been aware of the importance of autonomy and discretionary power in the functioning of police forces and

458 Peter Burke ‘Performing History: The Importance of occasions’, Rethinking History, 2005, vol.9(l), pp.35-52 (pp.41-42).

228 the practice of policing.459 Sociologist Egon Bittner, for example, was one of the first to define the ‘concept of police’ not in aprioristic terms that policemen served ‘to fight crime’ or ‘to enforce the law’, but to the core of policing: its encounters with the policed. In them, the police officer’s discretion in defining whether or not he (or she) should intervene and how he (or she) should intervene (and make use of force or not) is the defining praxis of police work and the concept of police.460 The policemen’s individuality - their values, beliefs and working tactics - are perceived from this perspective as central to the ways police authority was perceived by the political body, administration personnel and the public in general. Every time a policeman found himself leaving the station heading to his beat, though probably unaware of it, he was embodying a role envisaged by politicians, operationally ‘constructed’ and administered by Ministers, Civil Servants, Civil Governors and Police Commissioners. However, policing was not like military manoeuvres where a general always heads its force; instead, it was essentially an individualized practice where the policeman on the streets found his own vision of what should be the object of police activity and how it should be carried out and, because of this, modified the ideal. But while this individuality had normally been a focus of historians’ attention, it is not so common to see the discussion of policeman’s autonomy on the beat and interactions with the public integrated in the narrative of political reform and organisational modernisation. And to some extent the whole police history in this crucial period of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century can be ‘reduced’ to the permanent tension between the growing concerns and measures taken by politicians and police leaders about the rank and file and how the

459 Christopher Thale ‘The informal world of police patrol: New York city in the early twentieth century’, Journal of Urban History, 2007, vol.33(2), pp.183-216; Clive Emsley & Mark Clapson, ‘Street, Beat, and Respectability: The Culture and Self Image of Late Victorian and Edwardian Urban Policeman’ in Louis A. Knafla (Edit.) Policing and War in Europe, Criminal Justice History, vol. 16, (London: Greenwood Press, 2002), pp. 107-131. 460 Egon Bittner & Robert L. Bish The functions of the police in modern society (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1975).

229 police authority was in fact performed on the streets. The main objective of this chapter is therefore to examine this performance and its relationship with the institutional and organisational transformations seen in previous chapters.

6.1. Will the police come? Beat patrol and the dynamics of the police mandate

This section begins by providing a basic characterisation of the organisation and functioning of daily police work and then moves on to examine how the police mandate

- i.e. what the police officers were supposed to do when on duty - was conceptualised.

It concludes with a twofold explanation: firstly, the nature of the institution induced the men to intervene actively in everyday life, but more than just a legal mandate there was a dynamic shaping of the realm of legitimate police action within the organisation itself; secondly, the intervention was triggered by the population in which the gesture of

‘calling the police’ became a habitual response to certain social circumstances.

Basically, this point responds to the question of when and on which occasions a police constable should intervene.

The foundation of police work was the beat patrols round the city’s streets twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Lisbon and Oporto Policia Civil forces did not follow the same system of organising beat patrols. In Lisbon the 24 hours of the day were divided into ‘quarters of service’ {quartos de servigo), each with four to six hours

(depending on if it was during the day or at night); on the other hand, in Oporto, at least in mid-1880s, each policeman had to do eight straight hours of service.461 Patrols were normally performed individually, but could be done in pairs in more critical places and at some periods of the day, particularly during some hours of the night patrol. As in

461IAN/TT-MR, Mg.2841, L°39 N°159.

230 England, where different cities adopted different systems of organising beat patrols and the number of working hours, in Portugal the management of the workload followed different strategies devised more or less independently in each police force.462 Both systems had their advantages and disadvantages. Whereas the everyday life of policemen who worked eight straight hours a day was more akin to that of a normal worker, it had adverse consequences which were recognized at the time, in terms of causing more fatigue and irritability which were important factors given the nature of the police service. Lisbon’s system of ‘quarters of service’ responded directly to these inconveniences but, in turn, gave rise to a system in which a policeman had to come on and off duty more often, thus preventing them from having a more 'normal' family and social life. A consequence of the ‘quarters’ system was that men were forced to spend more time in police stations (in the period between shifts for example) and to have a greater preoccupation with their working hours; furthermore, the ‘quarters’ changed regularly. Few occupations forced men to work such fickle hours and to be so permanently dependent on of the other organisation members - a policeman could only leave the beat when the next policeman arrived. The need for constant punctuality and adaptation to different schedules that meant different things to do were essential aspects of the policeman’s lot.463

Beat patrol was the basic service performed by the police constable. Day and night, in good or bad weather conditions, policemen had to walk continuously through the streets of the city. Patrol was generally perceived as a hard job to do. In the realist novel published in 1919 by a former journalist, entitled ‘Diary of a Policeman’,

462 Clive Emsley, ‘The Policeman’, p.100; Joanne Klein Invisible Men: The secret lives os police constables in Liverpool, Manchester and Birmingham, 1900-1939 (Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2010), pp.164-165. 463 In 1914, but describing a situation that had surely occurred before, an order was issued stating, ‘that being frequent the guards reported for being late for duty without justification or claiming that the alarm clock did not wake them up, reason that cannot be an excuse for such misconduct, it is now determined that the police station chiefs in their lessons insist on this issue with their staff advising them to take every precaution to be punctual’, IAN/TT-APCL, NT244 NP106, DO N.28, 28-01-1914, P.5.

231 Bonifacio da Madredeus, ‘guard n°444 of the 12th esquadra\ is made to express relief for being put on service at the door of a state minister and having walking the minister’s puppy as one of his duties: ‘We have to put up with some things, it’s true, but we are free from walking in the rain, in the wind, spending the nights out, with the risk of tearing the uniform or being struck in the belly. Evil for evil, I prefer the tiredness of walking this puppy’.464 As illustration 10, from 1900, documents, the opposite was to be found when one was assigned to rough neighbourhoods, with the policeman complaining ‘the payment should be doubled; there’s no night and day, and [still it] yields a stabbing’. Unlike other cities, where the speed of walking or the periods to rest were formally established in the internal regulations, the policeman in Lisbon knew only that he had to walk continually in the streets assigned to that beat. Attempts were sometimes made to give orders about not being allowed to walk on the sidewalks, or stopping only where the policeman could have a wide open sight, but apparently without much success.465

464 Eduardo Noronha, Diario de umpolicia, (Lisbon: Guimaraes Editores, 1919), p.8. 465 IAN/TT-APCL, NT231 NP093, DO N.224, 01-08-1896, P.4. Illustration 10 - On the left, a policeman assigned sentinel in the house of a superior authority; on the right, a policeman assigned to one of the city's slums.

Faco guarda e semincila 0 servi^o a Mouraria A' casa Je um ligurrio, Mfr’cia paga dobrada, A sopcira da me trella, Nao lem noite nem tem dia DS-me a gorgeia o pairao. E rendc a sua facada.

Source: A Parodia, N°29, 01-08-1900

The weapons the police carried and how the use of physical force was conceived within the police were another fundamental issues in the way policemen presented themselves in the streets. Lisbon’s policemen usually walked their beats unarmed, or almost, since they carried a small sword, thus conforming to what politicians perceived as a modern police force. This feature only began to change significantly at the end of the century when the references in the daily orders to the use of revolvers, particularly during the night and in the mainly rural periphery of the city, began to appear more regularly. In the Ministry of Interior, this issue was lengthily discussed at the end of the

1880s. In 1888, in the wake of the creation of a new police division and a number of new police stations, the General Commissioner requested the acquisition of two hundred revolvers from the ministry. According to the official in the ministry, ‘the requested revolvers [were] indispensable to police stations established in the new city area, where the policemen [were being] continually attacked, [in] brutal manners, by the

233 naturally turbulent inhabitants and outsiders (adventicios), enemies of every element of order and tranquillity’.466 Although it cannot be set aside that revolvers presuppose more willingness on the part of authorities to at least show stronger power, their introduction was also a strategy of self-defence.467

The fact that policemen performed their duties unarmed was another thing that politicians and other authorities tried to copy from the English; the contrast between the unarmed English bobby and the German policeman who were armed to the teeth was well known and appeared regularly in the political debates whenever the police was in

Af.Q the spotlight. However, it should be remembered that Lisbon’s Policia Civil were unarmed because there was another police force in the city Guarda Municipal which was publicly known for being heavily armed. Whenever necessary - and a quick look at the daily newspapers of the time is enough to see this in fact happened - policemen asked the Municipal men for help. Although Portuguese liberals wished to emulate the

English Bobby, like many in Continental Europe they never felt secure enough to dispense with a more militarised police force capable of protecting the existing order in the case of a serious threat.469 There was a popular saying at the time that the Policia

Civil served to be beaten and the Guarda Municipal to beat.470 This parallel existence of an institution symbolising the government restraint in the use of force and another where this use was if not overtly authorised was at least tacitly, shows us that if we think police modernisation was a civilizing process of policing practices where the restraint in the use of force was a cornerstone, it also needs to be recalled that this was never a steady one-way process; different, sometimes conflicting, patterns coexisted in

466 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.2856, L°40, N°7. 467 In London the Metropolitan Police began using revolvers on night beats and in outer districts in 1883, see Clive Emsley, “The Thump’, p. 138. 468 For example, DCD, 18-09-1890, pp. 1862-1864. 469 Emsley, ‘The English Bobby’, p.120. 470 Noronha, Diario de Um Policia, p.96.

234 the same context and this is discernible in the case of Lisbon. At the twilight of the monarchy, between the regicide in February 1908 and the revolution of October 1910, the revolvers used by the police became an issue for republican leaders who demanded the disarmament of the police. The prime minister, however, refused such a measure.471

The police patrol ‘world’ ranged between the absolute calmness and even boredom to the excitement of having to deal with disorders and complaints about thefts and other crimes. However, it is more important to acknowledge police patrol as an activity that put policemen constantly into decision-making situations than to examine what functions and in what type of situations they intervened. An example is provided by Jose Monteiro. On 18th May 1869 he completed 1 year 6 months and 21 days in the

Policia Civil. 472 A few days earlier he had been dismissed due to alleged proof that he had stolen a silver watch from a man detained in the Rato square police station. A few days later, on 24th, Jose Monteiro wrote to the Minister of Interior claiming his innocence and demanding his readmission to the force. The most interesting part of his petition is not his explanation of what happened inside the station house, but how he described the end of that day’s patrol. Jose Monteiro and a colleague, guard N°21, were on duty at Cais do Sodre square on the 5 to 9 pm shift. ‘At 8 Vi p.m, a driver that was passing with his vehicle in that place warned them that ‘a man at the comer ofHotel

Central was very drunk and close to him there were some suspicious individuals’; immediately the petitioner [Jose Monteiro] and his colleague went to the indicated place’. When they approached the drunken man ‘the supplicant asked the individual where he lived and guard No.21 said the man was his neighbour’. At this moment, Jose

Monteiro assumed ‘that the man may have already been robbed, and told his colleague to search the man ‘finding on him $80, a briefcase with some papers and a silver watch

471 DCD, 13-05-1908, p.9. 472 Personal file in IAN/TT-APCL, NT468 NP476, fl.75. 235 with a metal strap attached to the vest’. He stated that everything was returned to the drunken man at that moment. Then Monteiro told the man ‘to go home’, to which the man ‘agreed and was then sent on his way’. The two policemen decided to keep an eye on the situation and ‘followed the man from a safe distance’; however ‘since the drunk was taking the direction of the Vapores bridge, the petitioner said to his colleague that it would be better if he took the drunk home because he [was] his neighbour’. While this was going on, a servant from the tavern located at No.8 of Corpo Santo square approached them asking for assistance to throw out four Englishmen who were too drunk to leave the public house. Jose Monteiro then ‘accompanied the servant into the tavern where soon after guard No.21 appeared, having left the first drunk, and it took about a quarter of an hour to throw the British out of the tavem[.] When they left, the petitioner and his colleague found the first drunk lying at the door of another tavern

Guard No.39 then appeared to change shift with the petitioner and he advised him that since he was returning to the station house with No.21 it would be better to take the drunk with them, which in fact happened’.473

This half-an-hour glimpse of a routine patrol day clearly shows how policemen had devise the best solutions for the problems that arose in their work routines and interpret what their professional mandate was in fact about. A person sleeping on a square bench could be either a drunk who needed to be removed or someone in danger of being robbed and so in need of protection, or, as in this case, both. Policing strategies had to be engendered from below at least to some extent. In fact, it is not possible to understand urban policing without realising the centrality of discretion in this law- enforcement practice. Firstly, because in instances dedicated to law-enforcement the

473 IANT/TT-MR, Mg.3072, Lv.19, N°675. Naturally, police were not always so gentle to drunks; a few years later, in 1872, Ega de Queiros and Ramalho Ortigao wrote that: ‘The only function of the police is to get the drunks from the floor and beat them’, Ega de Queiros & Ramalho Ortigao,As Farpas, (Estoril: Principia, 2004[1872]), p.256.

236 ability to decide what and how certain provisions will be enforced is a central factor to this same application. The law is only a basic guide; the reality was always multifaceted demanding immediate solutions. Secondly, because unlike what happened in other organisations - for example in the army - discretionary power in the police was greater

(though always bounded) towards the bottom of the hierarchy. So because of the intrinsic characteristics of policing as well as the wider context of growing control and discipline that characterised the transformation of the workplace at in this period, the discipline of the policeman as an individual became a major issue within Lisbon’s police.474 The challenge, however, is not so much to see how this individuality developed on the ground as it is to examine how it was accommodated in a wider political and organisational framework.

Because police leaders perceived the high degree of discretionary power detained by the policeman when on duty, the organisation formed an internal control system; this was a latent constraint for policemen on the street even though formal punishments were not always put into practice. Examples of this were expressed daily in the orders. Near midnight one day in September 1886, guard N.137 of the 1st

Division saw a tram passing by the place where he was on duty (Pampulha road) on which a fellow policeman was travelling to whom he directed ‘obscene words’. It is impossible to know the degree of obscenity - whether really offensive or in a more friendly tone? - but on a tram at ‘full of passengers’ the force saw this as an unacceptable behaviour for a policeman. And unfortunately for the guard, the General

Commissioner and his Deputy Commissioner were among the passengers on the tram:

474 See for example the 1876 general regulation that devoted special attention to what policemen were forbidden and allowed to do. For example, they could not meddle in private conversations that did not disturb the public peace, enter private homes unless they heard cries for help or had court order, enter taverns, bars and houses of prostitution, they could not borrow or buy on credit in the areas of their police stations, they could not receive special bonuses without the permission of the general commissioner, could only use weapons in self-defense, they could not ‘bring a cane or umbrella, or walk accompanied by dogs’. Policia Civil Gemeral Regulation, 21-12-1876, Art. 41. 237 the guard was punished with four additional shifts.475 The need to shape - to civilize - police constables was a constant organisational dynamic as already seen in the previous chapter. What the policeman should do and how they should do it were issues were that

Police station chiefs and Commissioners had to face permanently in their managerial strategies. Besides the law, which formally established police mandate, the more dynamic process was used of building it on the concrete experience of what the members of the police force observed on the streets.

What would trigger the intervention of a policeman? In what type of situations should he intervene? Chasing a thief, separating a fight between two men or ‘calming down’ a truculent drunk, were occurrences which, without much doubt, warranted intervention. References are very rare however in the daily orders to occurrences such as theft or other criminal cases. This silence can be interpreted in the sense that police functions in these areas were so ingrained in common sense that there was no need to elaborate more on them. Overall, the type of situations that would trigger police intervention widened. On one hand, a new institutional and organisational framework favoured police intervention - having more men empowered with police powers had automatically augmented the number of situations in which the police intervened; on the other, here will be addressed the fact that greater responsiveness was encouraged to exogenous activation of police intervention and which thus paralleled the growing public expectations about the police service.476

An important dimension of what a policeman should do - i.e. police work - was not actively designed by the police but was a response to the public’s demands. Directly

475 IAN/TT-APCL, NT221 NP084, DO N.261, 18-09-1886, P.8. 476 Writing about twentieth-century technological revolution in policing and growing public expectations about police service Samuel Walker wrote: ‘the availability of a service or remedy stimulates demand for that service, thereby altering basic expectations’ in “‘Broken windows” and fractured history: the use and misuse of history in recent police patrol analysis’, Justice Quarterly, 1984, Vol. 1(1), pp.75-90 (p.83). The same can be applied to Lisbon in this period.

238 linked to the growing public demand for police services, there was an internal policy of widening the types of occurrence in which a policeman should intervene expressed in several daily orders. In early July 1882, for example, it was recommended in a daily order that the police should ‘never fail to provide assistance to anyone who requests, not only in the police station house but also to police constables on the streets’. And even if the ‘person who asks for help cannot readily explain what its purpose, the assistance must be provided because it was requested on behalf of another person; and only when the policeman has full assurance that the request is illegal and not of his competence

[only on this occasion should the policeman] not provide assistance’.477 Fifteen years later, in an order classified with the heading ‘Complaints and Reports to the Police’

[Queixas e Participagdes], police station chiefs were recommended to ‘facilitate as much as possible the acceptance in their respective police stations and posts of complaints from the public’. These general orders reveal the Commissioner’s clear will that the police should intervene in as many occurrences as possible; the only restraint was if it was overtly against the law. Naturally, when the number of occurrences grew excessively or there was a lack of available men there was a drawback and police intervention was renegotiated, as happened, for example with the transportation of injured and sick people in the 1890s as will be seen in the following section. What needs to be acknowledged here is that the policeman’s duty that required him to intervene in occurrences other than criminal cases was routinely reaffirmed within the force. In the 1898, for example, a permanent order the General Commandant pointed out that: ‘When a police constable, in any situation that he may find himself, witnesses some fact or discussion that may lead to conflict, he should readily approach

[the persons in matter], because often it is just his simple presence that is required to

477 IAN/TT-APCL, NT218 NP081, DO N.183, 02-07-1882, N.I. 478 IAN/TT-APCL, NT231 NP093, DO N.141, 22-05-1897, N.6.

239 avoid further unpleasantness in the occurrence’, and he concluded ‘in minor incidents

[the police constable] should seek to reconcile [and] harmonise the disputants’.479

Whereas police professionalisation in the twentieth century meant the police function was represented as crime-control agencies, Policia Civil internal rules show a very different picture with policemen being expected to intervene in a wide range of situations.

The policeman thus appeared on the city streets as a true conflict mediator or, as social scientists have termed, performing the police’s peacekeeping function.480 Some cases that reached the Ministry of Interior exemplify this mediation. In March 1881,

Lisbon’s streets experienced tumultuous days as the protests against the Lourengo

Marques treaty signed with the British government in 1879 being discussed in the parliament reached a peak. A few days later, Guarda Municipal commandant wrote a lengthily account to the minister reporting a number of occurrences. One of these situations happened at 8pm on the 14th when a force of Cavalry was informed that two hundred people were gathered and rioting in Assumpgao lane in the city centre.

However, when the cavalry arrived the ‘people were quiet’. Guarda soldiers were then informed that the gathering had its origins in a dispute between a vinegar hawker and shopkeeper over some goods. Policeman N°62 of the 2nd Division was already on the spot and ‘had advised the shopkeeper to close the door and the hawker to move away.

His advice was not immediately followed by the shopkeeper, causing more people to gather nearby. After a while, however, the shopkeeper closed the shop door and the 481 people then slowly dispersed.

479 IAN/TT-APCL, NT233 NP095, DO N.150, 30-05-1898, P.L 480 Peter K. Manning, ‘The Police: mandate, strategies and appearances’, in Tim Newburn (Ed.),Policing: Key Readings, (Cullompton: Willan, 2005), pp. 198-200. 481IAN/TT-MR, Mg.4966, L°31, N°195.

240 More than one year later, in May 1882, another situation in Oporto highlighted the mediation role of the police. There were a number of schools in the city run by

Catholic sisters for poor children where they received ‘education and a meal for free’.

On 28th May, the son of Jose Costa did not return home from school and, at about 8 or

9pm, he started crying aloud searching for his boy. A gathering of people began forming in the neighbourhood and soon after men from the Policia and Guarda appeared. It was the policeman that took charge of the occurrence knocking at the school door and asking for the boy when they were told that he was in another nearby school where we would receive communion the next day. The sister also informed the policeman that there had been a problem to find the boy’s family to let them know about this but that at 6am of the next day the boy would return to his parents. After more cries by some individuals, Policia Civil dispersed the people that gathered around.

The next day the boy returned home. This case would probably have gone unnoticed if the news published in Oporto press had not been read at the Ministry, which subsequently asked the Civil Governor for information. As the case related to a minor incident, the Civil Governor was visibly annoyed when he wrote back to Lisbon on 5th

June.482

Under normal circumstances, neither case would have reached the Ministry. The first would have never been reported to Ministry if it was not for other larger disturbances nearby. In the second, if Oporto’s notoriously anticlerical daily press had not reported the case, probably not even the Civil Governor would have known about it.

But what these cases show is how the police was routinely called to mediate and resolve minor everyday conflicts. The policeman advising the shopkeeper to close the doors or knocking at the door of the school to learn and transmit information about the boy’s

482 IAN/TT-MR, Mg.2808, L°32, N°489.

241 whereabouts is a clear image of someone who was called, had then to assess the situation, decide on the best strategy to take and finally intervene.

The extension of police intervention to everyday routines and how this was shaped by a supply/demand dynamic can also be understood by focusing attention on a small object and its use: the whistle and the gesture of whistling. Skimming through the daily press or in literary sources quickly reveals an image that is closely connected with the Lisbon policeman: his whistle and the echo of its sound through the city.483

Whistling had a function in everyday urban life: it was used by policemen to demand compliance with their orders but was also used by the population to call for help in cases of alarm. Whereas village bells could easily perform an alarm function in the countryside, this was done in the larger and denser city with the addition of individual whistles 484 Similarly to the countryside, the numerous churches in Lisbon allowed the use of the bells but the urban transformation that took place from the 1860s onwards also meant the transition to more individualised forms of everyday living and the use of the whistle in emergency situations was a sign of this. The sheer echo of a whistle blowing would have been enough to trigger a policeman’s intervention even when they were not on duty.485

This issue was so important to the population that in the 1880s there was a voluntary association that trained people in the rule using whistles and pealing bells,

a q *z particularly but not exclusively in cases of fires. In April 1881, policemen were

483 Just to cite a few literary sources, see Queiros & Ortigao, As Farpas, p.459; Alberto Pimentel, Fotografias de Lisboa (Lisbon: Frenesi, 2005[1874]), p. 106; Maria Ratazzi, Portugal de Relance (Lisbon: Antigona, 2004[1879]), p. 222-223; AAVV, Galeria dos Criminosos celebres, Lisbon: Typ. Palhares, Vol. I, 1896, p.l 16, 172; Avelino de Sousa, Bairro Alto: Romance de costumes populares (Lisbon: Livraria Popular de Francisco Franco, 1944), p. 186. 484 Alain Corbin, Village Bells: Sound and Meaning in the Nineteenth-century French Countryside (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1999), pp. 191-201. 485 IAN/TT-APCL, NT214 NP076, DO N.201, 19-07-1876, P.5; NT218 NP081, DO N.292, 18-10-1880, P.l; NT227 NP087, DO N.312, 08-11-1889, P.8. 486 See the statutes of this association in Estatutos / Associagao Servigo Voluntario de Ambulancia em Incendios, Lisbon: Typ. Universal de Thomaz Quintino Antunes, 1881.

242 warned not to respond to the peals nearPalha Lane because they were only ‘exercises for the instruction of whistle signals’. There was also a Civil Government ordinance focused on the regulations for whistling and pealing bells, and policemen were regularly reminded to enforce them and to ensure they were complied with.487 Whistles and the sound produced by them did not appear in the urban landscape with the police; they predated the creation the police as a safety strategy of alarm and calling for help. The point however is that, either in the mouth of policemen or in the mouth of other city inhabitants, from the 1860s onwards police were at the centre of this safety strategy which had a profound social and cultural meaning. Calling the police , in the way it is understood today, is a cultural gesture and in fact embodies the whole ‘idea of police’.

The expectation that police will come is central to it and it was historically constructed.488 The gesture was shaped by the fact that police were effectively placed at the core of urban community life (see Chapter 3), but also because the people, intentionally or unintentionally, started using it when the men of Policia Civil were the ones that responded to their calls. Moreover, it should not be forgotten that police were not alone, and were not even the prime users of sounds as a mean of communication between population and public services. In what can tentatively be termed ‘the urban public services soundscape’, fire-fighters were developing a complex code for church bells in Lisbon at this same time for the different parts of the city.489 In the twentieth century, the telephone emerged as a new form of ‘calling the police’; although not invented in the nineteenth-century, the gesture was generalised in this period with the used of the whistle and the bell. But while an appreciation of the cultural meaning behind the use of the whistle provides a sense of how were the police called and their

487 Civil Government Ordinance, 22-06-1881, of which policemen were reminded in IAN/TT-APCL, NT227 NP087, DO N.184, 03-07-1889, P.l 488 Junior & Muniz, ‘Stop or I’ll call the Police!’ 489 Regulamento do Servigo dos Incendios na cidade de Lisboa (Lisbon: Typographia Universal, 1882), map n°2.

243 services demanded, it does not tell us what the police themselves conceived their role to be.

Although responding to demands from the public was an important part of police work, another set of functions was more actively pursued by the police. In the last part of this chapter, the concrete results of police action over the years will be examined in more detail. Here the way the police role was conceptualized within the force needs to be examined. In general, the self-representation of police mandate took shape in the

‘permanent orders’ of the police instruction manuals. In November 1884, the General

Commissioner pointed out a number of aspects on which the police force should exercise ‘all effectiveness’. Two themes occupy most of the order. Firstly, policemen should pay special attention to the municipal bylaws relating to the abuse of animals,

‘the vigilance of teamsters and coachmen should be made with all rigour (...) within the realm of legality’. Secondly and more important, the attention of the police should be directed mainly to a set of issues with the aim of providing safety to the ‘passerby’

(transeunte). What emerges is the understanding that the police mandate was mainly to protect those who circulated in the public space in an orderly manner; this is demonstrated when he referred to the need to look out for beggars, ‘not consenting in any way that the beggar enter stores begging or annoy the passersby on the streets with insistence’; or when he noted that policeman should respond to the annoyances caused by men selling lottery tickets by stopping them ‘chasing the passersby to sell them lottery tickets’ and also avoiding that their proclamations ‘disturb the public’; or, finally, when stated that the police should prevent prostitutes ‘talking from the windows or provoking the passersby’ and executing with all the rigor ‘the measure that aims to prevent them from walking the streets after dark’.490

490 IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NP084, DO N.317, 12-11-1884, P.l.

244 More than a decade and a half later, in 1898, and already with another commander, a new extended order elaborated on setting the priorities that should guide police action. The mission of the police was now placed more extremely in terms of good versus evil, ‘each policeman alone and all in common shall endeavour that only the thugs fear the police[.] And that in their constant struggle against these, in support of the well-being and social order [of the community], [they should pursue] always the moral and material support of all the good and honourable people. It is not fair, nor is it understandable, that there may be antagonism between those who are offended and their defenders’.491 Gaining the trust of the public against those who threatened the lives and property of the community was understandably at the top of the police priorities.

Contrary to what one might expect, the orders the police received at the start of every day in Lisbon identified and described who should be protected and whose behaviour should be suppressed.

In July 1902, a new order of ‘permanent execution’ appeared on the walls of police station houses defining police intervention priorities. Reflecting the increasing problems witnessed in the city’s traffic, those who abused animals pulling vehicles or being transported, such as turkeys were again in the spotlight. Also in relation to this issue, attention was drawn to municipal bylaws relating to circulation of large herds on sidewalks. Like four years earlier, attention was called to individuals clashing with passersby and ‘very special attention to the lads and other individuals of bad manners that entertain themselves in teasing and chasing elderly people that due to their age, physical deficiencies or foibles lend themselves to this reprehensible and disgusting entertainment’.492 Police station chiefs should insist on these in their lessons and on

491 IAN/TT-APCL, NT233 NP095, DO N.150, 30-05-1898, P.l. 492 IAN/TT-APCL, NT235 NP097, DO N.174, 23-07-1902, P. 12. For a literary representation of this type of occasion see Eduardo Noronha A Esquina do Chiado (Oporto: Magalhaes e Moniz, 1913), p.139, 185, 207.

245 other matters of ‘public interest, tending to moralise and to raise the level of education of the working classes of our capital city’. According to police chiefs, police should actively intervene to remove ‘things that are not proper of the importance of our city’.

The straightforward acknowledgment of the civilising mission of the police in issues other than those normally associated with crime, violence and disorder should be stressed here.

Thus, the broad and dynamic police mandate is demonstrated both by the public’s demand for police intervention and the way the police conceptualized their role. On the part of the ‘public’, although it is difficult to get a single empirical source that objectively proves this, it can be argued with the sources presented here that the consolidation of an ‘idea of police’ among Lisbon’s population translated into more calls or at least the recognition that police were there to be called. On the other hand, the internal discourses of the police transmit a different picture of policemen’s public representations of their work that was focused on the ‘criminal class’; there is explicit concern with the ones that should be protected, and here police discourses reflect and help create a key urban transformation: the emergence of the modem, anonymous figure of the ‘passerby’. Both dimensions show the growing complexity of policing as the implementation of authority.

6.2. Adjusting performances: negotiating, arresting and fining.

Policia Civil Commissioners were already rationalising based on concrete practices when they were devising policing priorities, but this type of exercise was even more blatant when they tried to correct how policemen were acting. On this point, attention will be drawn to the two main formal and objective consequences of police practice,

246 namely detentions and fines, and on the systematic emphasis by police leaders that policemen should negotiate and exhaust all other solutions before reaching these two more formal outcomes. Arrests and the issuing of fines were the cause of growing concern among police leaders and this is reflected in numerous daily orders trying to regulate them.493 As in many other issues already seen throughout this work, the way police commissioners tried to adjust the way policemen should perform gives simultaneously the ideal of policing envisaged by the top of the hierarchy but also an insight into the practices of Lisbon’s police constables.

Since the beginning of operations in late 1860s, ‘familiarity’ between the policemen and the public became a major and constant issue in the management of police work. As in other issues, this was a double edged sword. Excessive familiarity between policemen and city dwellers, expressed in complicity and informal relations were often the object of criticism by top authorities. On the other hand, however, estrangement in excess should also be avoided because it made compliance with police orders more difficult. ‘Warnings’ and ‘advices’ would only work with a minimum exchange of knowledge between police and policed so that the latter could recognize the legitimacy of the former’s action. Internal strategies were devised to attain a minimum of equilibrium between the two edges. A typical example of this occurred in Figueira market, the city’s main covered market, where the police had to maintain tranquillity and public peace but also oversee regulations like measures and weights. At the end of

September 1873, the General Commissioner observed that “experience has shown the great inconvenience of the service in Figueira market being carried out always by the

493 Fines were substantiated in a pecuniary penalty and were issued by the police officers themselves under the Municipal Bylaws code. The fine was normally issued on the streets and the citizen should then go to the General Commissariat to proceed to its payment; if it was not paid the person in case was then persecuted. The money resulting from the fines was divided between the police and the municipality and, in the case of the police, served to finance the pension fund, among other things. For a similar type of police action in Europe see Elaine Glovka Spencer, Police and the Social Order in German Cities: The Dusseldorf District 1848-1914 (DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1992), pp.64-65, 117. 247 same guard.” Having ‘seen a lot of familiarity between the guard on service and the different sellers’, he ordered that the service should be done by different guards following a specific schedule and warned that ‘the guards on duty in that place should avoid conversations or relations with the sellers working there, [and] should not receive any gifts or favours offered to them’.494 The establishment of a roster system was the main strategy adopted to avoid the excess of familiarity. However, this system did not become permanent and the General Commissioner was forced to call attention to the need to reintroduce it a few months after this order. The fact that the system was not always put into practice is indicative of the need felt to actually know the places under surveillance. The service in Figueira market was a very specific one; many of the rules enforced by police were the cause of frequent conflicts. From this standpoint, the advantage of assigning the same policeman to this service was that the person on duty knew the sellers and the specificities in their trade. Only when the ‘gifts’ and ‘favours’ became too public, for example with complaints in the press, or were subject to an occasional apprehension from the top ranks of police hierarchy, did the ‘familiarity’ cause special concerns and demand for changes in the ways police service was structured.

A quick glance at the daily orders is enough to reveal the main reasons for punishments of Lisbon police: the guards were either ‘found talking’ with each other or with civilians or were ‘found drunk on duty’. Lisbon was no different with elsewhere in

Europe in this matter; problems like these were the most common in the management of police forces.495 A series of strategies were developed over time to change the negative image associated with the very ingrained habit of gossiping in the Portuguese capital.

When C. Morais Sarmento took command of the police in 1876, a series of measures

494 IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, DO N.273, 30-09-1873, P.l. 495 Clive Esmley, The Great British Bobby: A history of British policing from the 18th century to the present, (London: Quercus, 2009), p.39,85; Klein, Invisible Men, p.30-31, 74-82. 248 were implemented on the general management of the force and the problem of gossiping assumed a prominent position. The new General Commissioner tried to solve the problem, for example, by rationalising the punishments of men found talking on the streets:

‘The men that when on duty are found talking on unrelated service matters will be punished the 1st time with one day of suspension of work and salary; the 2nd time with two days of suspension; the 3rd time with four days of suspension; the 4th time with eight days of suspension; the 5th time with 15 days of suspension; the 6th time with prison sentence; and the 7th time with expulsion. Since I do not wish to have the need to take salaries from policemen , I hope that this order will serve as enough warning to put an end to an abuse so ingrained in the police service, committed principally by the men on the patrol service, in the theatres, and as sentinels in police station houses.’49

The ‘conversation issue’ clearly testifies to a disciplinarian model where the top of the hierarchy had the exact notion of how they depended on the rank and file. Since job experience was extremely valued in the promotion of good policing practices, the

General Commissioner could not simply dismiss the men that committed misdemeanours. They had, instead, to deal with them by devising strategies to reduce them. Over the years, a discursive resource frequently used when punishing a guard was to declare in the daily order that one particular misdemeanour was worthy of dismissal but invoking mitigating reasons or, more significantly, without any further explanation, the guard was kept in his job. An example in February 1876:

‘Having come to my knowledge that guard N.24 of the 3rd Division, after 10 o'clock at night on the 18th of the current month had hit a civilian with a cane, with the aggravation of being dressed in civilian clothes without permission[.] These misbehaviours are of such gravity that he should be immediately expelled but, for this time, I limit the punishment to eight [additional] patrols, reserving myself to propose his dismissal whenever he commits new misdemeanours.’497

496 IAN/TT-APCL, NT215 NP077, DO N.50, 19-02-1877, P.3. For a similar order specifically destined to the sergeants see NT216 NP079, DO N.56, 25-02-1878, P.l. To see the persistence of this issue over the years, even with the intervention of the Civil Governor, IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NP082, DO N.312, 07- 11-1885, P.8; NT231 NP093, DO N .lll, 21-04-1895, P.6. 497 IAN/TT-APCL, NT214 NP076, DO N.53, 22-02-1876, P.L

249 The dynamics of internal discipline in Policia Civil was structured around two poles: on one side there were the punishments and on the other formal praise and monetary gratifications. Firstly, which penalties were policemen punished with? The most common form of punishment was ‘successive guard duties’ in which a policeman had to stay in the station waiting for any emergency occurrence or performing minor liaison tasks. Policemen could also be punished with more patrol services or, in more serious cases, the transfer of police station. The punishments formally transmitted through the hierarchical chain and involving the General Commissioner came through the daily orders. This leaves a gap about which little is known, namely the punishments and praise from commissioners and police station chiefs (after 1893 just police station chiefs). Normally, if a policeman’s immediate hierarchical superior caught him at fault, on duty or not, he wrote a formal report (‘parte’) to the Commissariat; after the commissioner deemed the claim well-founded, it was communicated to the General

Commissioner. The guard was then called to police headquarters to defend himself.

This hearing did not always constitute common practice. In his first daily order as

General Commissioner, C. Morais Sarmento underlined the article in the general regulation of the force that instituted this procedure, ‘I will never punish a policeman without first hearing him; therefore the accused policemen will [always] be sent to my presence, with an order from their respective Commissioner, one day after being accused’.498 After this hearing, the General Commissioner determined the punishment which was then publicised to the force in the daily order and placed on the policeman’s personal file.

498 IAN/TT-APCL, NT215 NP077, DO N.301, 27-10-1876, P.l; this procedure was reaffirmed in 1881, see NT218 NP081, DO N.63, 04-03-1881, P.7.

250 Attenuating circumstances were taken into consideration when a punishment was imposed on the policeman. Length of service and previous good behaviour were obvious reasons, but in the everyday management of the force other more prosaic reasons were also taken into account. In July 1874 a guard was punished with a ‘severe reprehension’ by his Commissioner for having ‘responded with arrogance and little respect’ to his police station chief; but the punishment was reduced as it was the guard’s first fault and ‘that he have been be dizzy because he had just been woken’.499 On the other hand, the level of publicity of the misdemeanour was one of the main causes for aggravating the punishment. If the policeman was seen committing a misdemeanour and was criticised by the public, this would automatically aggravate his penalty, and the higher the social status of the ‘public’ the worse it was for the policeman. Guard N.66 of the 3rd Division, for example, was suspended for 15 days, a very harsh penalty for the time, on the verge of being dismissed, due to his behaviour when on duty inside a church. In the force’s order of the day, the General Commissioner emphatically argued:

‘when [the guard] was on duty at St. Paul’s Church on Maundy Thursday he behaved in an indignant way, not lending himself to observing the instructions of the

Confraternity’s Judge [.] He stayed smoking with his bonnet on his head within the cloisters of the church despite having been rebuked and admonished by the judge,

[moreover] he seemed to be drunk[.] So it was necessary replace him with another guard, in view of the profanity and irreverent behaviour that the guard practiced [inside the church]’.500 The guard would always have been punished, but the fact that his behaviour occurred inside a church on one of the most important dates of the religious calendar and was criticised by the religious authorities and the ‘public’ undoubtedly worsened the situation. As with the incident of the obscene language on the tram seen

499 IAN/TT-APCL, NT214 NP076, DO N. 183, 02-07-1874, P. 1. 500 IAN/TT-APCL, NT214 NP076, DO N .l 10, 19-04-1876, P.4.

251 above, this shows a sense of insecurity on the part of the police leaders resulting from the public criticism of the police, as well as the importance given to securing public respect for the force.

With the number of men and the complexity of the work growing, the efforts by the police leaders to create and enforce a uniform mode of police interactions with the

‘public’ became more constant and visible. Using a Nobert Elias concept, the police were now acting as a more active ‘drive-moulding’ institution.501 In June 1882, for example, following a recommendation given by the Civil Governor, the General

Commissioner pointed out to his men that they should avoid making arrests for

‘insignificant reasons’, only proceeding to someone’s arrest after all means of deterrent and warning had been employed and exhausted. The act of detaining someone carried a greater potential danger of using physical force. Over the years, there was repeated concern about the use of physical force, not because they were particularly worried about individual rights but more because of the impact the use of violence, brutality or simply rude manners had in the press. Policemen were constantly warned that they should not make use of violence as revenge for verbal or physical injuries they had suffered in what seemed to be a response to both what was happening on the streets and to its representation in the press, as seen for example in Illustration 11 depicting policemen as uncivilised Africans intervening on the streets during carnival days. C.

Morais Sarmento reminded his men that they should keep in mind that many of these provocations were merely the result of too much alcohol, and they should in fact act with the utmost courtesy and good sense ‘in their relations with the people’.502 Overall, cordiality, courtesy and prudence, on the one hand, and strength and energy on the other, were constantly asserted when it came to arrests and fines.

501 Norbert Elias The civilizing process: Sociogenetic and psychogenetic investigations (Oxford: Blackwell, 2000), p.l 19. 502 IAN/TT-APCL, NT218 NP081, DO N.163, 12-06-1882, P.L 252 Illustration 11 - Poticia Civil men as 'a column of savages from Bailundo' (Angola).

columna dc fotalho, lk /' abnndo W caminho COrlfj? tarDSTales™ ^ Uma columna j. dc- selvaeens^v^gens do Bailundo, dc luva branca e chan aos3 cmpurroes c gtitando : Arreda quc sSo ordes!

Source: Celso Hernnnio, O Carnaval Desmascarado (Lisbon: Gomes de Carvalho, 1903).

Following the letter and spirit of the law that regulated Poli'cia Civil, the police hierarchy showed a frequent concern to reaffirm that the ‘good service is not so much the ostentation of numerous occurrences, as it is the diligence shown in preventing

cq3 crimes and misdemeanours by warning and advice’. ' Though this type of discourse almost mechanically reproduced formal legal prescriptions, the context in which they were being used needs to be stressed. In the context of daily organisational management, with punishments being imposed upon those who did not fulfil this ideal behaviour, invoking this legalistic formulation must at least have had the effect of restraining guards to some extent (something that will be suggested in the last part of this chapter). The rules on the use of force are a clear example of the ‘legality’ versus

‘practicality’ dynamic. In June 1885, for example, after having suspended guard N.42 of the 2nd Division for eight days for assaulting and insulting a detainee in the police

503 IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NP082, DO N. 161, 10-06-1885, P. 1. 253 station house, and despite the provocations received, the General Commissioner warned all the other members of the force: ‘it is highly recommended that police constables treat the public with kindness, even when they are suffering hasty behaviour and few polite words are thrown at them, and only when they are bodily assaulted are they allowed to use force to enforce their will’.504 The rules and limits on the use of force were drawn both from legal prescriptions and the experience emerging from the streets.

In the last decade of the century, the number of general orders directly and specifically addressing how policemen should execute their job and mediate their relations with the people grew significantly. From a subject that appeared once every couple of years, in the 1890s it was addressed almost every couple of months, even if sometimes just through a quick reference in a disciplinary case. At the end of June

1894, for example, the police Commandant urged policemen to make use of prudence and civility as the ‘impulsive and reckless modes in their relationships with the public’ had come to his knowledge ‘hence causing resistance and unwillingness on the part of the public to accept the recommendations made’.505 Nevertheless, there were not only constant warnings to deal with the people in agentle manner, but also constant warnings about policemen being too close to the people and engaging in constant and prolonged dialogues’. The Commandant concluded on this occasion that ‘policemen should conduct themselves with ‘balance and gravity’.506 As the years passed, a more precise indication emerged that the public should be treated with ‘cordiality and civility’. In

July 1895, for example, policemen were instructed that they should make use of

‘cordiality, civility and patience [especially] whenever dealing with children, women,

CAT drunk, elderly and insane individuals’. If policemen doubted why should they behave

504 IAN/TT-APCL, NT213 NP075, DO N.115, 25-04-1874, P.l. 505 IAN/TT-APCL, NT230 NP092, DO N.178, 27-06-1894, P.9. 506 IAN/TT-APCL, NT230 NP092, DO N.294, 21-10-1894, P.5. 507 IAN/TT-APCL, NT231 NP093, DO N.205, 24-07-1895, P.10.

254 like that, an order in 1905 stressed that ‘bad manners erodes [policemens’] moral strength and prestige’, essential elements in the pursuit of their mission.508 However, the limits of the ‘warning’ and ‘advice’ that were at the core of the ideal ‘cordial’ and ‘civil’ behaviour for policemen were never objectively delineated, as they probably could have never been.

Preventing and negotiating before resorting to the more serious action a policeman could take, detaining and fining, were the key ideas guiding what should be ideal policing practices. Implicitly, however, these orders encouraged situations of constant, prolonged and deep interaction between police constables and urbanites. And in fact this ‘interactional context’ brought continuous problems to police leaders.

Depriving a person of freedom through incarceration, together with the use of physical force, is considered the most serious form of police intervention. Although the act of arresting someone always had the same purpose, the performance of it changed significantly with the police modernisation process. From analysing the daily orders, it can be concluded that there were four main trends of change during the period under study: its increasing bureaucratic formalisation; the progressive transfer of the proceedings of the arrest to the private space of the station house, as noted in chapter 3; the insistence on the part of the commissioners to keep the use of physical force to the minimum possible; and finally as to the temporal length of this action, the insistence on making the arrest in the shortest time possible.509

508 IAN/TT-APCL, NT237 NP099, DO N.317, 13-11-1905, P.6. 509 Citing just the orders addressing ‘arrests’ as a general category, and thus leaving aside those about the arrests of specific social groups or crimes like coachmen, individuals harassing ladies in public spaces, vagrants and vagrancy for example, See IAN/TT-APCL,NT218 NP081, DO N.289, 16-10-1881, P.5, placing in police station houses the main proceedings of the arrest; NT229 NP091, DO N.292, 19-10- 1893, w/n, on the steps to take after the arrest in the station house, transference of the detainees to the General Commissariat, and elaboration of occurrence maps; NT230 NP092, DO N.320, 16-11-1893, on the elaboration and circulation of paperwork related with arrests; NT230 NP092, DO N.206, 25-07-1894, P.6, one of the rare references to the Penal Code in the police daily orders, reminding policemen of certain types of crime and the abuse of certain arbitrary arrests made recently; NT231 NP093, DO N.137, 17-05-1895, P.5, warning against the release of prisoners without permission from superiors; NT231

255 Arresting someone increasingly brought burdensome work to the individual policeman. From the 1890s onwards, the beat policemen had to do paperwork after an arrest and could not leave it to a civilian clerk, as had happened previously.510 The onerous task of having to testify in court, something the policeman had do when off duty, already happened in these early decades but was probably augmented as the judicial system became more structured and complex. Moreover, a policeman’s work came under increased scrutiny following an arrest, not only from within the force and the courts but also from the public at large through the press. The ‘arrest’ was already probably one of the most regulated police actions in the law - both in the Penal Code and police regulations - and there was a myriad of internal regulations controlling every step a policeman should take, from the moment he approached someone on the streets until the prisoners were taken to the judicial system; this not only shows the centrality of arrests in policing practice but also the growing constraints posed on the policemen when taking this action. With these constraints in mind, it is easier to understand some of the orders cited above and the figures for arrests numbers that will be examined in the concluding section of this chapter.

As already noted in Chapter 3, the act of arresting was to take place on the premises of the police station house as far as possible, i.e. identifying the individual, making a final decision about the arrest, formally registering the arrest. In 1881, the

General Commissioner was very clear on this point stating that whenever a policeman had to make an arrest he should ‘lead the detainee or detainees to their respective police

NP093, DO. N.361, 26-12-1896, on how to conduct arrests in cases where there is a previous warrant from a judge; NT237 NP099, DO N.245, 03-09-1905, on the process to take when sending detainees to the courts. 510 After the end of the Commissariats in 1893 and with the decrease of the number of civilian clerks employed by the police, noticeable in this same period, paperwork became increasingly concentrated on the beat policeman and on the police station.

256 station house and [only] there take the notes and search them’.511 In the eyes of police leaders, this change had two aims: firstly, to limit the pressures from bystanders, which not rarely ended up in attacks on the policemen and the escape of the detainees; secondly, to give the force greater control, particularly through the intervention of the police station chief, over the actions and decision-making process of the individual policemen. Illustration 12 below caricatures the arrest of a journalist, a part that the policeman apparently only discovered when already in the station. It was certainly more of a symbolic representation intended to criticise police censorship of the press than a real occurrence but nevertheless it represents what should constitute a common practice.

It begins with the policeman saying, ‘I suspect this bloke’, he then asks the man: ‘are you Perdigao?’, ‘You don’t reply?! So let’s go to the esquadraV, ‘Let’s go, in front of me, that’s an order!’ When the two arrive at the police station, the policeman turns to his chief (caption 2, line 2), who is smoking and reading the newspaper, ‘Chief, we have here Perdigao!’, to which the chief replies, “Maybe... he is a journalist!’, ‘in that case, we’ll spank him!’. Only after this the chief appears to interrogating the man (caption 2, line 3): ‘Ah, are you from the papers?!’, ‘So we stick you with the law...’ The last image shows a big skewer representing the law of 13 February (which the police gave censorship powers) with which they impale the journalist.

511 IAN/TT-APCL, NT218 NP081, DO N.289, 16-10-1881, P.5.

257 Illustration 12- The arrest of a journalist.

0 VERDADEIRO ENCRAVANtjO (PERDIGAO GANHOU A PENA)

Itesc o n lio i tb te g . i i u . Voce c p e r d ig a o ! Nao me reponte! Gire la por’a evquadra ! I

Oh stv. chefe! Temos AuJe la p’ra dlente I Sao ord esll ■SV ca'har. . . i jomalista !

WSKf •«%■*'«is-- & m

A h ! Voce e do$ ,.jp e is ) 1 N’esse caso / erra-se-lhe uma sova! Entao espeta-se-lhe a lei...

Source: A Parodia, N°31,15-08-1900

Finally, the interest in using the minimum physical force in the act of arresting

and making it as quick as possible was generally aimed at reducing the potential peril of

258 public outbursts that arrests had always triggered. The restraint in the use of physical force, already noted above, is not restricted to the ‘arrest’ but generally to all policing practice particularly in public order control situations. In order to reduce the need to use physical force and to speed up the act of arrest, policemen relied on techniques and objects that increased their efficiency. Shortly after the creation of Policia Civil,

Oporto’s daily press made several complaints about police practices such as arbitrary arrests and disproportionate use of force. These complaints triggered an investigation by the Ministry of Interior and Oporto’s Civil Government. It concluded, among other things, that the police were making use of straitjackets and ammonium carbonate to wake drunks up and arrest them. 512 Straitjackets and ammonium made it easier to arrest drunks rapidly and without having to use force to a point that left traces. Although there is no evidence of the use of chemicals to simplify arrests, straitjackets were always in common use in Lisbon.513 The use of straitjackets and of chemical materials - there is no evidence of the use of handcuffs - when arresting someone stood for the accomplishment of the ideal policing practices devised within the organisation. Their use seemed to have prevailed throughout the whole period mainly in cases of drunkenness and rowdy vagrants, despite some complaints in the press.

Although symbolically less important than arrests, pecuniary fines were central to the practice of policing first because they were quantitatively more recurrent than arrests, as will be seen in the concluding part of this chapter. In Chapter 2 of this thesis, this was identified in the city’s bylaws and in the category of ‘municipal police’ as one of the main reasons behind the police reform during the 1860s. Thus it does not comes as a surprise that the issuing of fines was one of the most important policing practices

512IAN/TT-MR, Mq.5003, L°19, N°1320; Diario Mercantil, 30-09-1869. 513 An 1881 report from the Guarda Municipal's Commandant notes its use by the Guarda and the Policia Civil IAN/TT-MR, Mg.4966, L°31, N°195. The source that testifies their widespread use within the police are the laundry bills, see IAN/TT-MR, Contabilidade, Mg.4995.

259 and one that caused growing ‘discussions’ within the police force. During the 1860s, reformers could probably not have imagined the city’s growth and the changes in urban life felt mainly after the 1880s. An increasing number of subjects that ranged from food inspection, including the distribution of bread and the good condition of milk, to theatres and the surveillance of theatres’ audience’s came under the regulation of the city’s bylaws and other police regulations. More important, however, was the explosion in the forms of circulation and the number of vehicles circulating in the narrow, haphazard and winding Lisbon streets that made traffic management one of the main tasks of the beat policemen, mainly during the 1890s. While the (growing) number of fines was a central indicator of police intervention in the city’s routines, the problem for the police force began with how to perform this task. It became a challenge for the police to issue fines in congested streets or to deal with a myriad of small everyday life habits (and with countless different actors) and this was another sign of the growing complexity of ‘doing policing’.

Among other aspects, the issuing of fines made the organisation aware of the existence of the overzealous policeman. In fact, the policeman who wanted to show his superiors that he had brought ‘results’ back to the station was probably as bad as the policemen that did not work according to the established rules. In Lisbon, a policeman who was anxious to ‘show results’ could experience some frustration. On January 17,

1875 at 9pm, guard N.96 of the 2nd Division suspected some people were being entertained by illegal gambling and decided to ‘raid’ the house in question despite not having permission from his superiors. His suspicions were proved unfounded, and as he

‘made a big fuss’, the commissioner accused him of having ‘disturbed intellectual faculties’.514 He was suspended for 20 days, a heavy penalty for that time. Policemen

514 IAN/TT-APCL, NT214 NP076, DO N.21, 21-01-1875, P.l.

260 were internally condemned for exaggeratedly active behaviour. Some years later, in

September 1879, a guard was punished with eight successive shifts for fining a Spanish citizen because he did not renew his residence permit. This would not be abnormal if the permit had not just expired the previous day, and according to the General

Commissioner in that day’s order, this showed ‘a selfish spirit of persecution’ which was to be lamented in a police force.515 The overzealous spirit revealed in some policemen had a harmful effect on the police’s public image and undermined the action of the whole force. In the language of the time, police had to pursue their role ‘without vexing the people’, this, however was not so much seen as a concern about people’s rights as a strategy to increase police efficiency.516

Similarly to what was happening with arrests, issuing fines also came under increasingly tight organisational scrutiny and was of paramount importance in 1886.

The city’s official boundaries had grown; the number of policemen was increasing and a new division was being created the following year and, more importantly, a new

Municipal Bylaws Code was promulgated. In August that year and probably after seeking the advice and agreement of the General Commissioner, the Civil Governor issued five new directives on how to issue fines which tell as much about what followed as about what the practice had or, better, had not been previously. Firstly, policemen should hand the correspondent ticket to the fined person; this ticket should be correctly filled in (with the identification of the person and occurrence). This new directive came in response to frequent complaints from people (particularly coachmen) who had been fined without their knowledge and who only learnt of the fine when the police sent the ticket to their employer. Likewise, there were constant complaints from police

515 IAN/TT-APCL, NT217 NP080, DO N.260, 17-09-1879, P.l. 516 This expression was used often in different contexts. See IAN/TT-APCL, NT219 NP082, DO. N.161, 10-06-1885, N .l for a general application; and NT221 NP084, DO. N.300, 27-20-1886, applied to traffic issues.

261 commissioners that tickets had not been correctly filled in. The second rule was that if policemen made a mistake when issuing a ticket they should not destroy the ticket but keep it and use another ticket; this allowed police station chiefs to control policemens’ work more tightly. The third was a mere bureaucratic directive on how to fill in the ticket. The fourth was of central importance because it assigned police station chiefs the task of verifying all fine-tickets, thus the inspection of policemen’s work by station chiefs was intensified even further. The fifth directive was again of a bureaucratic nature and regulated how the section of the ticket kept in police hands should circulate between the police and the civil government. S17 This exhaustive order is just one example of the type of orders issued in the following years, not only about fines but also, as we have seen, on arrests and so many other issues that testify to the increasing constraints posed on policing practice and policemen.

As already noted, traffic management became a central police function at the end of the century and the explosion in the number of orders on this subject from the late

1880s clearly indicates a police force adapting to a new urban and operational context.518 Whereas it began in the 1880s as the police adapting to what was a growing

517 IAN/TT-APCL, NT221 NP084, DO N.238, 26-08-1886, P.5 518 Just to cite just the main orders about this subject, See IAN/TT-APCL, NT218 NP081, DO N.133, 13- 05-1882, P.5, increases the number of policemen assigned specifically to traffic issues and calls more general attention to this area of policing; NT221 NP084, DO N.167, 16-06-1887, P.5, from a previous communication from the Municipality, policemen are warned about the need to oversee horse-drawn cabs, passenger over capacity in different types of transport and how to issue fines in these situations; NT223 NP086, DO N.133, 12-05-1888, P.9, pointing out that policeman should arrest coachmen after being disobeyed showing how they should do it without disrupting traffic; NT225 NP088, DO N.190, 09- 07-1889, P.ll, after complaints from coachmen from an array of companies it warns policemen against the practice of fining without communicating this to the fined person; NT225 NP088, DO N.250, 07-09- 1889, P.2 introduces to policemen the new law on violence against animals, regulating also the pecuniary gratifications attributed by the Society for the Protection of Animals to the policemen that fined more people under this law; NT225 NP088, DO N.160, 09-06-1890, P.5, together with the next order it was key to showing how policemen should fine vehicles that were moving without disrupting traffic; NT225 NP088, DO N.190, 09-07-1890, P.8, besides the noted for the previous order it was also important in defining types of situation that should constitute the motive for a fine or an arrest; NT229 NP091, DO N.185, 04-07-1893, specifies previous rules for the case of horse-drawn trams; NT229 NP091, DO N.248, 05-09-1893, calls attention to the excessive speeding of vehicles in general; NT235 NP097, DO N.174, 23-07-1902, P.12, on the circulation in the sidewalks; NT236 NP098, DO N.26, 26-01-1904, P.6, after a few brief remarks in previous orders, this order states how policemen should oversee automobiles, particularly concerning their speed.

262 number of vehicles and different types of transport with the emergence of public transport, by the end of the century a number of orders focused on the general regulation of mobility such as circulation in the sidewalks. Finally, the automobile made its first appearances in police daily orders in the early the twentieth century. What do these orders say about the practice of policing? Besides the growing complexity of traffic management - not only in quantitative terms but also the rapid technological change that this period witnessed - and the nebulous contours of what the motive for an arrest or a fine should be, these orders also show the prolonged interactions that they generated between policemen and urbanites. For example, in June 1890 the General

Commissioner explained how a policeman should arrest or fine a vehicle that was moving and loaded with passengers without completely disrupting traffic. He stated that the policeman who has to:

‘arrest or fine any driver who is taking passengers to any place in the city should not do so until [the drivers] have reached intended destination. The police in these cases will rise to the front seat of the carriage [almofada do carro], having previously made known to the passengers that he will do it this way in order to avoid inconveniences to them and not leaving the driver who committed the offence to get away with it. In the event that passengers do not want to give assent to the wishes of the policeman, then the policeman will lead the driver immediately to the police station [thus leaving the passengers where they are]’519

The interaction was not only prolonged but also required great negotiation capacity from the policeman. In a book about Lisbon’s transport history written in the early 1970s, one of first automobile taxi drivers of the city was interviewed to tell his memories. He had started in the job in the horse-era, in the early twentieth century. In the late 1910s/early 1920s he adopted the automobile. There was also a family tradition for this line of work: both his father and uncle had driven horse-drawn cabs at the end of the nineteenth century. And it was in telling one of his uncle’s stories that he described:

519 IAN/TT-APCL, NT225 NP088, DO N.160, 09-06-1890, P.5.

263 ‘One afternoon, he was fined with customers in the car. In a very polite manner he suggested to the policeman: - "I’ll go to the Civil Government Sir, but try to understand, let me first go and take the passengers to the destination." - The policeman agreed, rising to the place beside him, but on their return, already with no customers aboard and taking advantage of a bend, Ze Lagarto [the uncle] pulled the reins, the animals began to run at full speed and the policeman... bams! (tras!) was thrown from the seat. A policeman who saw the situation came to rescue his sprawled colleague and when he told him what happened at the height of irritation, the other told him: "Oh man! You were lucky to have him run away. So you do not know that it was Ze Largarto’s car?! If you arrested him you would get into serious trouble with the Marialvas! [a noble family that protected Ze Largato] ,52°

The police order of 1890 matches almost perfectly with this story that had been transmitted within the family (at least until the part in which the policeman is thrown out of the car) and thus raises the question of the extent to which these internal rules transferred into a concrete set of routine practices. Even if they expressed only the desired ideal practices and not the concrete ones, they were, as already been noted, a response to previous practices and were intended to mould future ones. If they did not accurately depict policing practice, they directly and actively ‘interacted’ with them and are thus a privileged point of observation to assess these practices.

6.3. Returning results: policing, representation and practice

Until this point, the chapter has looked at how the ‘policing’ methods used were apprehended and examined within the force. Although undeniably rich discussions, they are also limited to a somewhat particularistic and circumstantial image of how policemen were performing on Lisbon’s streets. In order to grasp a broader image of the results of police intervention and their evolution, police returns are now addressed, as

520 Maria Capitao, Subsidios para a Histdria dos Transportes Terrestres em Lisboa no Seculo XIX (Lisbon: CML, 1974), p. 124.

264 this type of information is in itself a ‘thing’ and can shed light on how policing practices were evolving.

The police statistics were ultimately used by the institution to represent its operational results. Although obviously imperfect, they provide an image of the extent to which police intervened in the everyday life of the population, but they are also the result of an operation of internal conceptualisation, classification and representation of police work. Following Chris Williams, “interactive” approach to statistics is adopted here, one that argues that they reveal as much about the means by which the criminal

c r y 1 justice system operates as the results from this activity. Moreover, this section will stress the complex assemblage of information contained in police statistics, already noted by historian Eric Monkkonen who was one of the first to note the significance of non-criminal police work.522 After a brief reflection on statistics as a Policia Civil institutional procedure, how they were constructed and the contents included as a relevant portrayal of the entire police activity, this section proceeds to a general characterisation of what the figures say about policing practices, indicating some aspects that will be contrasted in the conclusion of the chapter with the internal discourses examined above.

The Policia Civil statistics were published by the Portuguese National Press between 1871 and 1874 and 1886 and 1892; this publication was then only resumed after the implantation of the Republic when the returns of 1912 and 1913 were published in 1914 and 1915 respectively. The sparse publication of police returns was in

521 Chris A. Wiliams ‘Counting crimes or counting people: some implications of mid-nineteenth century British police returns’, Crime Histoire & Societes / Crime, History & Societies, 2000, vol.4(2), pp.77-93 (p.78). 522 Eric H. Monkkonen, Police in Urban America 1860-1920 (Cambridge: CUP, 2004 [1981]), pp.103- 104.

265 line with national criminal statistics or state statistics in general.523 The discontinuation of the publication of statistics in 1893 (when the 1892 returns were published) is especially intriguing because the police seemed to be en route to modernisation. Since the gathering and ordering of information in a statistical form did not cease to be executed within Policia Civil - and indeed seemed to have been refined - two reasons for this sudden disappearance must be considered.524 On the one hand, since criminal investigation gained a degree of institutional autonomy and was now being commanded by a judicial magistrate, crime rates might have been carried directly to the Ministry of

Justice without the need for autonomous publication by Policia Civil. The Ministry of

Justice did not publish crime statistics independently in these years; from 1903 onwards they were published in the general Anuario Estatistico de Portugal.525 However, they appeared there already in the form of judiciary statistics and not police returns, losing the greater variety of items incorporated in police statistics. The absence of those police statistics, which are believed to have been even partially produced, from the Police and

Ministry of Interior archives indicates that they might be found in the Ministry of

Justice but only further research can definitely answer this question. On the other hand, what was essentially the lack of publicity for the information can be explained by the political and social turbulence in Portugal and the capital city in particular. The publicising of police information could trigger more disturbances and political leaders wanted to avoid this at all costs. Although more research needs to be done on this subject, it might be thought from what happened with police statistics that the culture of secrecy was operating more actively among police commissioners and high state officials from the 1890s, when the threat of the republicans became more visible.

523 Maria Joao Vaz,A Criminalidade em Lisboa entre meados do seculo XIX e o inicio do seculo XX (PhD Thesis, Lisbon: ISCTE, 2006) pp.209-229. 524 About the elaboration of statistics within Policia Civil after 1892, see IAN/TT-APCL, NT229 NP091, DO N.290, 17-10-1893, P.9; NT239, NP101, DO. N.345, 11-12-1907, P.6. 525 Vaz, ‘A Criminalidade’, p.226.

266 Contrary to what happened in England for example, Policia Civil General

Commissioners were not legally obliged, and did not feel the need, to produce an annual report. Only in the early years (1870s) and in the latter (1912 and 1913) did the General

Commissioner (in the 1910s Alexandre Morgado) insert a short report in the statistics identifying the main organisational difficulties and the major shortcomings in services.

The 1870s, especially, were still a phase of consolidation, institutionally and on the ground, and the initial report by the commissioner was used as a justification of the police’s existence and purpose. What did the Policia Civil statistics contain? ‘Police statistics’ and ‘criminal statistics’ are often taken as synonyms, but it can be concluded from the example of Policia Civil statistics that police statistics were more than just crime returns and painted a picture of the growing complexity of policing practice. Even though a large part was devoted to representing criminal occurrences and criminals, they contain much more information that provides a relevant picture of ‘police work’ in its entirety, or what police leaders perceived as important to represent police work as a whole. Indeed, only the ‘crime section’ of the police statistics (criminal occurrences and arrests) was subsequently poured into national crime statistics - because it reached the courts. A large part of the occurrences remained only within the police sphere. Although the long time-span between them - with the first being published in 1872 and the last in

1915 and many gaps in between - may give the idea of some discontinuity, police statistics maintained an almost unchanged contents structure throughout this period.

Police returns invariably began with the criminal occurrences and the arrests resulting from them and then move on to a social characterisation of the individuals arrested (gender, age, marital status, birth origin, literacy and occupations). The statistics then described the ‘other services’: abandoned newborn babies, sick and injured people transported to the hospital, and ‘different occurrences’: fires, suicides or

267 simple aid services (auxllios), among others. The number of fines under the by-laws code and the amount of money collected also appeared in the statistics (except for the ones published after 1910). As the police were given more registration competences, the police returns began devoting more space to this type of service. Whereas this section only comprised registration of prostitutes in the early 1870s statistics, by the end of the

1880s it already included house servants, errand boys, lottery and newspapers sellers, coffee house servants, and hotel porters (corrector de hotel). These people were obliged to register in the General Commissariat with the total numbers appearing in the statistics. Statistics would also normally include long lists with the names and addresses of doctors, midwives and pawnbrokers in each police division. Finally, not so often they included numbers in the police organisation (policemen, police stations) and the year’s bureaucratic activity with the number of letters sent.

Not surprisingly, Lisbon was always seen as the place in the country with the most acute crime problem. In line with the growth in the number of policemen, the

1880s represented the great watershed, with the number of arrests increasing by almost half (Table 3). In general, and only in terms of crime, they are in line with the general trends of crime rates in Portugal: petty interpersonal violent crimes remain the main cause for arrests, with property crime in a secondary position.526 In 1875 there were only 252 cases of theft, and the main cause of arrest was ‘disorder’ with 938 cases; this was one of the several legal categories later gathered under ‘assault’. In 1891, assaults were by far the main cause of arrest with 3004 cases, with drunkenness (1410 cases) and disobeying authority (1702 cases) as the other main causes. In 1891, theft only gave rise to 724 cases. In 1912, although thefts were a much more frequent cause of arrest, with

2553 cases, assaults persisted as the main cause with 2696 cases.

526 Vaz, ‘A Criminalidade’, pp.349-388.

268 In terms of identity, the individuals arrested by the police were generally men, with women accounting for around only 25%; they were generally bom outside Lisbon, not a surprise given the demographic structure of the city in this period already noted in the introduction; they were aged on average between 15 and 35 years, again not a surprise given the predominance of the crime of interpersonal violence normally committed by/between youths or young adults; the individuals arrested were mainly single; around 60% were illiterate; the two main occupational categories declared by the individuals arrested were ‘labourers’ or ‘coachmen’ and ‘carters’.527 However, the main concern here is more the act of arresting someone than the cause of the arrest or the identity of the arrested.

Depriving someone of their liberty and introducing them into the criminal justice system is generally perceived as one of the most serious actions that a policeman can take. Table 3 contains the number of arrests registered by Policia Civil. A few explanations need to be provided about the figures. The 1912-13 data must be handled with special caution. After the republican revolution of 1910, the state and its agencies experienced a crisis of authority which affected their capacity to act. The police in particular went through a series of purges and saw its authority seriously challenged.

Nevertheless, the figures are still indicative of ordinary police activities because they refer to years where a degree of normality was already achieved and the effects of

World War I were not yet felt. It must however be noted that in normal times the number of arrests would probably have been higher. In general, there is a constant growth in the absolute number of arrests with a peak in the tumultuous year of 1890.

527 Vaz, ‘A Criminalidade’, pp.389-434.

269 Table 3 - Arrests Registered by Policia Civil.

Years Total 1870 4680 1871 4433 1872 3787 1873 4006 1874 4814 1880 6248 1886 10269 1887 9987 1888 12368 1889 11946 1890 12821 1891 12032 1892 10445 1912 11806 1913 13823

Source - Mapas Estatisticos Corpo Policia Civil de Lisboa for the mentioned years; 1880 data published in O Seculo 03-07-1881 The table above is entitled ‘Registered Arrests’ because it encompasses arrests made by

Policia Civil men as well as by other police authorities. All arrests had to be bureaucratically handled by Policia Civil services even when initially performed by police authorities like the Guarda Municipal. Whichever the authority, all arrests made in the city had to be registered by Policia Civil. However, it was noted in the statistics which authority originally made the arrest. The growing importance of Policia Civil and the parallel reduction in other police authorities’ intervention are blatant (Table 4, below). Not surprisingly, the figures demonstrate the increasing role of Policia Civil in the general policing of the city. In this respect it is worth noting that the commissioners addressed this issue in the reports that opened police statistics in the 1870s, comparing

Policia Civil activity with that of the other police force and other criminal justice agents stressing the growing importance of the institution. Significantly, this preoccupation would vanish in the following years, thus demonstrating the institutional consolidation of this police force.

270 Table 4 - Arrests by Police Authority

Years Policia Guarda Municipal Other Total Civil (After 1910 Guarda Authorities Republicana) 1871 2754 846 833 4433 1872 2261 829 697 3787 1873 2370 980 656 4006 1874 3217 895 702 4814 1886 8333 1499 437 10269 1887 7523 1780 684 9987 1888 9981 1737 640 12368 1889 9950 1362 634 11946 1890 10766 1513 542 12821 1891 10149 1345 538 12032 1892 8613 1465 367 10445 1912 11411 155 240 11806 1913 13415 142 266 13823

Source - Mapas Estatisticos Corpo Policia Civil de Lisboa for the mentioned years

While the absolute numbers show a constant rise in arrests, a slightly different picture emerges when the figures are related with the police manpower and city population. If we take the average numbers of arrest per policeman for the periods

1871-74, 1886-1892 and 1912-13, we see that a policeman would make 9.8 arrests per year in the 1870s, compared with 12.2 arrests per year in the late 1880s and early 1890s and 8.3 arrests per year after the revolution. The conclusion is that the number of arrests did not grow exponentially in this period, but remained more or less stable. Further emphasising this pattern, we should not forget that the anomalous years of 1890 and

1891 caused the numbers of arrests to be higher. The picture goes along this same line when relating the number of arrests with the city’s population. The average number of arrests in the first half of the 1870s was 4260 a year; the 1878 census recorded a population of 227,674 which means there were 1.8 arrests per 100 inhabitants. Between

1890 and 1892, there was an average of 10,453 arrests, thus 3.4 arrests per 100 population. For the period 1912/1913, the number of arrests per 100 habitants had

271 decreased to 2.9. Although this exercise is flawed somewhat by the lack of data for a long and crucial period, it nonetheless indicates that despite the rise in arrests this was as strong as we suggested by constant warnings against arrests in the daily orders.

Moreover, if other social changes noticeable in this period are heeded, the pattern of restraint in the arrests becomes clearer.

In fact, if policing practices had remained constant, the effects of the social and legal context of the late 1880s onwards would certainly have resulted in a much higher number of arrests than actually came to be the case. This period was marked by a deep and prevailing economic crisis due, for example, to a perceptible growth in the number

C 9 0 of vagrants in the city. Likewise, as middle and working class enjoyed more leisure time, there was also a significant increase in spaces of sociability and in occasions prone to generating conflicts. Traffic problems grew, generating conflicts that often ended in physical confrontations. At another level, the reach of the criminal law had been extended to more issues in which police were supposed to intervene. An example of this was the ill-treatment of animals {maus tratos a animats') which emerged largely due to traffic congestion as drivers mistreating pack animals came into public view. Until

1889, this type of occurrence was fined through the city’s bylaw code. In this year, a new law was introduced criminalising the ill-treatment of animals. In 1890, the first year of enforcement, 673 people were arrested on these grounds, rising to 850 in the following year. In general, policemen had much more support from the law to make arrests at the end of the century than they had had earlier. However, police returns show they resorted to other forms of action particularly in minor conflicts. Even though the figures are not totally conclusive, there is an indication that a person, particularly from

528 Eunice Relvas, Esmola e degredo: Mendigos e Vadios em Lisboa (1835-1910) (Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 2002), pp. 17-20.

272 the working class, was more likely to be ‘arrested’ by the police in the 1870s than afterwards. Policemen resisted the use of the formal ‘arrest’ as a policing practice.

During the 1870s, another kind of police action, classified as ‘retentions’, involved transporting individuals to police premises; this type of occurrence was for situations of breach of the peace that did not come under the criminal law, namely behaviour like begging or being drunk (still not a criminalised behaviour) that were morally condemned but not sanctioned by criminal law. Police services also included occurrences like children found lost in the streets, which implied the use of police stations as a shelter, under this heading. In 1874, for example, these occurrences totalled

3524 cases, of which the 2872 cases of drunkenness were the large majority. Years later, in the late 1880s and early 1890s, this category had been emptied of most of its contents due to the criminalisation of drunkenness and a specific regulation, with partial

c o q criminalisation, for vagrancy. In 1886 it only amounted to 137 cases. Retentions were partially maintained as a category of police intervention but redefined to refer only to the interaction with children, either if they escaped from their families, houses of refuge or were simply found begging in the streets. The disappearance of ‘retentions’ as a category of police action during the 1880s reinforces some aspects of how policing practice was changing. First, policing was being transformed as a consequence of changes introduced in criminal law with a growing criminalisation of behaviour.

Secondly, as already suggested with the evolution of the number of arrests, the bureaucratization of police work meant that any procedures that did not come within the law tended to disappear at least when it come being formally registered. ‘Retention’ did not indicate any legal prescription.

529 Regulamento policial dos mendigos na cidade de Lisboa, (Lisbon: Govemo Civil de Lisboa, 1900). 273 Crime historians normally limit their analysis to the figures for arrest numbers and the corresponding types of crime. Police statistics provide, however, more rich information that offers a more complete image of the diversity and growing complexity of police work. As seen in Chapter 2, the creation ofPolicia Civil meant the end of the

Zeladores Municipais, a small force of municipal police. This brought the overseeing of the city’s bylaw code under the competence of Policia Civil. Following a movement initiated in the 1860s, over the years the bylaws focused more and more on the regulation of street behaviour. As already noted in the previous chapter, the substance of by-law regulations provided the police with much of their ‘civilizing mission’ that led

Robert Storch for England, to labelling them ‘domestic missionaries’.530 The figures contained in Table 5 show that fining someone under the bylaw code became a central form of interaction between policemen and the public. Unfortunately, the source does not allow the figures to be subdivided into the corresponding different types of offence.

Also, in this case no data is available for the period after 1892. However, the significance of bylaw fines certainly did not decrease and in all probability increased.

Firstly, as many of these fines were for issues related to circulation and the growing population, their numerical significance would have probably risen with the diversification of the means of transport. Moreover, there were conflicts between authorities due to the overseeing of bylaws that indicate their continuous centrality. At the beginning of the 1890s, the Policia Civil’s exclusive responsible for overseeing city’s bylaws started to be disputed by the Municipality. When men from Policia Civil arrested some unofficial municipal overseers in 1890, the issue was taken to the

Ministry.531 For the Municipality, the revenue from the fines was too important to be left to an external institution that was not controlled by the municipality, but the point

530 Robert Storch, ‘The policeman as domestic missionary: urban discipline and popular culture in Northern England, 1850-1880’, Journal of Social History, 1976, vol.9(4), pp.481-509. 531IAN/TT-MR, Mg.2862, Lv.40, N°803.

274 here is that the competition between institutions reveals the importance of bylaw enforcement and the significance of the figures in terms of revenues.532 As was already discernible in the number of arrests, there was also a large increase in the number of fines from the 1870s to the mid 1880s. This does not comes as a surprise if it is recalled that there was a clear upward trend in the number of policemen after 1885.

Table 5 - Number of Police Fines under the Municipal Bylaw Code

Year Total 1870 5112 1871 3462 1872 2538 1873 2643 1874 6147 1886 16.703 1887 12.906 1888 19.341 1889 19.058 1890 21.689 1891 27.519 1892 23.578

Source - Mapas Estatisticos Corpo Policia Civil de Lisboa for the mentioned years

The interaction on the streets when policemen fined someone was not the last between the fined citizen and the police. The fine could simply be paid, it could be contested in the General Commissariat and then discarded (a number of this contestations were reported in the daily orders), or the case was then sent to the courts if the citizen insisted on not paying the fine. As testified by the figures, the resistance to paying the fines was always extremely high. They only fell below fifty per cent in 1871 they and the peak was reached in 1886 with more than seventy two per cent. The mid-

532 Alvaro Ferreira da Silva, Crescimento Urbano, Regulagao e Oportunidad.es Empresariais: a construgao residencial em Lisboa, 1860-1930 (PhD, Thesis, Florence: EUI, 1997), pp.371-375. A part of the growth was obviously due to the administrative reform of 1885 that augmented the city’s territory, but part had certainly come from a more active enforcement of the bylaws.

275 1880s seemed to be the peak of unpaid fines, followed by a downward trend; unpaid fines in early 1890s stood at the same level as two decades earlier.

Table 6 - Result of the Fines at the Police Level.

Year Paid Unpaid / Sent To % of Unpaid The Courts Fines 1871 2209 1253 36.2 1872 1210 1328 52.3 1873 1082 1561 59 1874 3002 3145 51 1886 4603 12100 72.4 1887 3648 9258 71.7 1888 5989 13352 69 1889 7325 11733 61.6 1890 9665 12024 55.4 1891 12773 14746 53.6 1892 10011 13567 57.5

Source - Mapas Estatisticos Corpo Policia Civil de Lisboa for the mentioned years

There were several reasons for not paying the fine which embodied different levels of conscious resistance to state authority. Firstly, some people were unaware they were paying a fine as some policemen maintained the habit of fining without personally notifying the person (for instance, the driver of cab) but simply writing down the car license number. Some people would not pay and assumed a passive attitude - wait and see what happens. Others had more cogent opinions about how the system was working.

Some would not pay in order to defend themselves in court, at a higher level than just the police commissariats. More likely, however the majority did not pay the fine because they were sure that the justice system would not function and they would never have to pay. The fact that courts were full and not able to respond to a large amount of petty bylaw cases was intensely discussed in the ministries and known to the general public. As Illustration 13 below documents, a significant degree of disrespect and lack of credibility of the police authority must not be overlooked in both these cases.

276 Illustration 13 - 'Paying' the fine for not spitting in the spittoon.

Um cidadao atirando com 5oo reis para dentro de um escarrador ^ue itn policia condu? c cuspindo descaradamente nas boch£chas do agente.

Source: Celso Herminio, O Carnaval Desmascarado (Lisbon: Gomes de Carvalho, 1903).

Undoubtedly, arresting or fining someone were the most frequent and serious acts of coercion used by policemen on citizens. Physical coercion had a more latent role in the relations between the police and the public. The conclusion to take from the data collected here, not only the police returns but also the internal discourses examined in the previous parts of this chapter, is that ‘arresting’ someone became an increasingly scrutinised action which in turn led to more constant self-control by the policeman in his daily routine. Scrutiny for arresting someone meant policemen were subject to increasingly complex bureaucratic procedures, and they therefore avoiding taking this step. But, more important, arrests came increasingly in the public eye - i.e. with other state authorities, magistrates, the press. A wrong or badly handled arrest could profoundly damage the already shaky police credibility. On the other hand, it was the

277 act of fining someone under the bylaw code or other police regulations which became more frequent and embodied the police’s civilising mission. Both situations expressed the bureaucratic formalisation of police work. In addition to these two, there was a wide range of relationships and interactions between policemen and the population on the streets that were never registered. And the non-registration was never more frequent than in non-criminal police work.

Police interactions with the public were not only marked by the ‘enforcement’ and control by the police and a more or less explicit resistance by the policed. Earlier in this chapter, when the gesture of calling the police was discussed, the complaints about police presence from at least some sections of the population were noted. This reveals

coo the ‘aid businesses of police work or, from a more institutional perspective, the police as a public service534 emerging as a key aspect of their work. Although easily perceived as the most under-registered area of police work, its significant statistical relevance in

Policia Civil returns is striking. Police, that is, its rank-and-file and its leaders clearly perceived that the great bulk of occurrences in which they intervened were of a non­ criminal nature. Police services clearly found it difficult to classify the range of police interventions in the everyday life in short descriptive terms. As to the non-criminal work, 1342 cases of police services were registered under the heading ‘Different

Occurrences’ ( Ocorrencias Diversas) in 1874, 738 of which with the direct intervention of the Policia Civil, 581 of the Guarda Municipal and 23 by the Regedorias. These occurrences were divided into 6 types: objects found (202), information sent to the criminal courts (418), doors found open (5), fires (167), assistance (394) and ‘different cases’ (156). The last two demonstrate the difficulty of determining what exactly constituted these services. Years later, in the 1890s, Policia Civil did not discriminate

533 Clive Emsley, Policing and its Context 1750-1870 (London: Macmillan, 1983), p.4; see also Maurice Punch & Trevor Naylor, ‘The police: a social service’, New Society, 1973, 24, pp.358-361. 534 Monkkonen, Police in Urban America, p. 153.

278 the numbers of these services by police authority, or, alternatively, only indicated the services provided by its men; nevertheless, they maintained statistically relevant in police work. In 1892, for example, Policia Civil performed 261 assistance services, attended to 302 work disasters, 159 building floods or 33 gas explosions. Although they have statistical relevance in the total amount of police returns in the statistics, their significance does not lie in the quantity but in the importance police placed on representing them in the statistics. These are probably the least reliable numbers in the statistics; for example, it is not hard to imagine that policemen intervened in much more than 167 fires throughout 1874 and that they were not always, probably not even the majority of them, formally registered. What is important to retain here is that while policemen can indeed be seen as ‘domestic missionaries’, imposing certain ideas of acceptable behaviour on the public, they should also be seen as public servants who provided citizens with a sense of safety and stability in the urban everyday life in the name of the state. As already noted earlier in this work, one of the best examples of this dimension of police work is the transportation of sick and injured people to hospitals and pharmacies in medical emergencies. Table 7 below shows a constant rise in this type of service, but also its limits and dynamics. In 1890, an infirmary was opened to provide minor treatments. In the first months of the year, the number of people that flocked into the General Commissariat was so large that the force had to close down the service.

279 Table 7 - Sick People Transported to the Hospital and curatives in Pharmacies

Year Total 1870 711 1871 744 1872 736 1873 1199 1874 1164 1880 1235 1886 1883 1887 2271 1888 2458 1889 3570 1890 9607 1891 4595 1892 2779 1912 9658 1913 10110 Source - Mapas Estatisticos Corpo Policia Civil de Lisboa for the mentioned years; 1880 data was published in O Seculo 03-07-1881

These figures and the internal discourses that stressed a broad sphere of police intervention show the centrality of the ‘assistance’ dimension in policing practice. What were the implications of this in the Lisbon and Portuguese context? This aspect of police work is especially relevant to the ways in which the population perceived and interacted with the police. As Clive Emsley pointed out, the presence of gendarmerie police forces in Continental Europe’s rural landscape meant that they were often the only sign of the central state’s presence for these populations. Their relevance was also in the symbolism of flying the flag of the nation. Besides law and order enforcement, gendarmes also normally acted in a wide range of services like emergency operations in cases of fire and floods.535 Portugal was an exception in this respect. Only in 1910, in the wake of the republican revolution, was a national gendarmerie police force created.

As Diego Palacios Cerezales argued, the nonexistence of a centrally controlled rural police authority in the nineteenth century was one of the explanatory factors for the

535 Clive Emsley, Gendarmes and the State , p. 121, 222. 280 traditionally-accepted lack of citizenship awareness and distrust of any state activities by rural populations. The fact that rural communities only experienced the state when required to pay taxes, not ‘seeing’ any ‘public services’ normally associated with the growth of state revenue, was at the root of the weak political integration of rural

CO £ communities in the national political sphere. In contrast, the Policia Civil's services and the ambivalence of its relationship with the public, demonstrated in the above example of the resistance to pay fines and the request for aid, may be thought of as a form of integration that balanced resistance and demand. The line that structured the implementation of authority by the policemen rested on this paradoxical dichotomy.

Conclusion

This chapter addressed how policing practice or the implementing of authority was increasingly organisationally bound and subject to public scrutiny. Beat patrols were not turned into a ‘technical’ operation, at least in the more common sense of the word, but became increasingly restrained by rules and social and organisational controls. This was especially noticeable in the two main outcomes of police activity: arrests and fines.

Similarly to Eric Monkkonen’s conclusions for the United States, police activity in terms of ‘arrests’ stabilised or declined. In line with work on England and Germany, in the case of Lisbon it was argued this does not mean that the police function was narrowing from class control to a more specialised control of criminal behaviour.537

Instead, an examination of the Policia Civil daily orders has shown this was caused by a shift in how ideal policing was envisaged, resorting more to negotiation and less to

536 Diego Palacios Cerezales, A country without gendarmerie. Policing and political integration in rural Portugal during the 19th century, Unpublished Paper, 2010. 537 Barbara Weinberger & Herbert Reinke, ‘A Diminishing Function? A comparative historical account of policing in the city’, Policing and Society, 1991, vol.l(3), pp.213-223.

281 arrests. Moreover, the bureaucratisation of policing also restrained policemen from arresting people. Fining under the municipal bylaw code was another central aspect of police work. This encompassed mainly the regulation of ordinary public space behaviour, in a blatant demonstration of the police’s civilising mission. Not surprisingly, this was one of the areas that witnessed most resistance from the population. On the other hand, the population also requested its services on a daily basis. Non-criminal work or the aid function became a central aspect of police work even though the institution always had difficulties in rationalising this function in terms of figures. Overall, the modem idea of police: a professional body of men, centrally and bureaucratically controlled, distributed throughout the city’s territory trying to prevent occurrences and responding to emergencies became ingrained in Lisbon society in this period as a result of the everyday life interactions between policemen and the populace.

282 7. Conclusion

In the wake of the revolution of 5 October 1910, the growing harassment of policemen in Lisbon was such that as early as 6 October the first republican Civil Governor of

Lisbon urged the ‘good people’ to respect the person of the policeman.538 The

Commandant who was appointed head of the police on 8 October, Alberto da Silveira, recalled in parliament in 1914: ‘the esquadras were assaulted, the men chased on the streets and some even in their own homes.’ When he arrived at the general commissariat he ‘found a force almost in its entirety sheltered in [the General Commissariat yard].

Many were terrified, assuming they would be executed without any form of trial; others lamented the sorry fate of their families, of which they were the only breadwinners. The force was completely demoralised’.539 How did a force whose blueprint heralded the ideals of modem police and policing end up isolated and persecuted by the public they were intended to serve? Were the gains made during the latter part of the nineteenth century only paper thin?

As a result of the political stability achieved with the Regeneration movement in

1851 and pushed by events like the Christmas Riots, the 1860s witnessed a reinvigorated interest in police reform by the government and the political elite. The main result of this movement was the creation of the Policia Civil in 1867. This reform movement was rooted in a political will to emulate foreign police models, and an ‘ideal type’ was developed based on these foreign models. While this ideal was never achieved, there was a significant change in policing organisation and practise. Between

538 O Mundo, 06-10-1910. 539 DS, 01-05-1914, p.7.

283 the 1860s and the 1900s, marked transformations took place in Lisbon’s policing arrangements not only in institutional and organisational terms but also in terms of police functions and the practice of policing. This work stressed the importance of the study of police organisation and policing practices, viewing both in relational terms by using the police’s daily orders as the anchor source. In this context, the police station emerged as a key element in both organisational and policing practice reform. As a result of these changes, Lisbon society developed a new ‘idea of police’ during this period. This conclusion begins by addressing the meaning and significance of the political process that led to the police reform movement in the 1860s; it will then concentrate on the organisational transformations visible from the 1870s onwards stressing the importance of the police station house in particular; finally, it will consider how the ‘idea of police’, on the part of both the police and the policed, came to encompass a new centrality of the state and its agents in the mediation of social relations.

As a political project, liberalism aimed to create a state and a society in Portugal bound by the rule of law. There was a legislative side to these endeavours with the promulgation of codes and an array of legislation, but also another side related to the practices of institutions, which in many cases were either new or had been reformed by the newly emerged liberal elite. In the case of the state machinery, this meant the transformation of administrative and justice practices. This thesis examined this transformation in the ‘police realm’ in the territory where it was of greatest concern: the largest urban settlement and political capital - Lisbon. Chapter 2 examined the political process and associated discussions aimed at the reform of the country’s police system and leading to the creation of the Policia Civil. A civilian force was always recognised

284 as suitable (or necessary) for the city, and measures to implement it trace back to the early period of the Liberal regime with the creation of the Guarda Municipal in 1834.

However, the political and social instability experienced until 1851 prevented the development of police modernisation. Even after the creation of thePolicia Civil, this remained an incomplete project. The maintenance of a militarisedGuarda Municipal is the most blatant sign of this, but also the fact that by the time the Policia Civil gained sufficient resources to be the city’s main police force dedicated to the policing of everyday life (and the transformation of Guarda Municipal into a public order maintenance force), it already had a military leadership. Therefore the existence of a civilian police force, seen by the liberal political elite as the ‘modem’ institutional form of the police, always remained an unfinished project. A central aspect in this project was the role played by the European context and the transnational circulation of ‘models’ and practices described throughout this work and seen at different levels of police reform. Notably, this ‘circulation’ happened politically at the very moment the new police force was created but, probably more importantly, this work has shown the significant effects it had in the shaping of everyday policing practices as exemplified through the conduct of Cristovao Morais Sarmento (Chapter 4).

More than the renewed institutional framework or the progressively larger resources allocated to the police, the most important transformation witnessed in this period was probably the making of an organisational environment. In order to understand police development in this period, it is essential to be aware of the gradual

(and dynamic) conceptualisation and making of the ties that bounded, integrated and socialised ‘on the job’ the men that joined and made a career in Policia Civil. The political reconfiguration of the ideal type of policeman, present in the 1860s reform movement, was never completely put into practice. The policeman who was supposed

285 to be a professional, educated, morally upright, respectful of the hierarchy and bounding his actions through the rule of law turned out to be a man who had migrated to the city

(and thus was little integrated in urban life), with little knowledge of what a good policeman was supposed to be, often criticised for being rude and uncivil and who could hardly manage to master the ‘art’ of writing and reading. Nevertheless, there was a substantial difference between the unpaid agent or soldier seen before 1867 and the considerably organisationally socialised policemen of particularly the 1890s onwards.

The creation of work and socialisation routines and the enforcement of discipline were not spontaneous but were the result of a complex web of factors: organisational traditions from the military and the civil service, foreign examples and external pressures from the government, the press and public opinion. As the years went by and a core of men that achieved long careers began to reflect on their profession, this also became an internal police process. The organisational strategies designed to ‘fabricate’ a civilised policeman had identifiable results, even if the ideal policeman never came into existence. Only with this in mind is it possible to understand the relatively stable functioning of an organisational framework that began with 250 men and, on the eve of the Republican revolution of 1910, encompassed almost 1600 men.

Thus, particularly in the 1870s (before and after the 1876 reform) and 1890s

(particularly after the 1893 reform), internal socialisation routines were shaped in order to civilise the men that joined the police force. Overall, an important aspect emphasised throughout this work is that police hierarchy was not just a construct from above but a dynamic process. Understanding hierarchy (or, better, hierarchies) in a ‘relational way’ showed an organisation in constant, contested change. Examples were seen of the distinct status of commissioners or police station chiefs, the entrance of army officers in

1893, and the negotiation of policemen’s conduct through punishments and rewards.

286 Throughout most of this work, the internal functioning of the police force was our focus. However, important glimpses of the ‘outer world’ also emerged. For example, when the symbolism of the uniform and the process of uniformisation were examined in

Chapter 5 it was seen the centrality of the individual numbers in the relationship (and control) between policemen and population. Just as in many other cities, Lisbon’s police commissioners tried to create an image and to ensure the polite and self-controlled policeman was put into practice. However, the collision between the ideal of policeman and policing and practical experience created constant tension in working relations.

There was a thin line between the organisationally-encouraged ‘warning’ that policemen were encouraged to use in their dealings with the public, and what could be considered

‘gossiping when on duty’, which originated frequent punishments within the force.

The centrality of the esquadra de policia in the whole story of the police institutional reform, organisational culture and daily practice emerged at several points and is indeed a key conclusion of this work. This new place in the city became a focal point in the whole transformation of the police and policing practices. It is in fact impossible to understand police modernisation without recognising the material formation of police station houses and how they became hubs of social relations, both among policemen and between them and the population. In terms of organisational shaping, emphasis was given to the relevance of police stations as units of around 40 members spread across the city and the action of their police station chief as they were pivotal to the emergence of an organisational culture - i.e. in the production and reproduction of ideal types of police, policeman and policing practice, which became especially apparent in Chapter 5. Moreover, as seen in Chapter 3, the fact that the esquadra brought the police close to the different urban communities meant that the majority of the population, for better or worse, recognised and interacted with the

287 police. The esquadras were assaulted in October of 1910 in part because they were close, numerous, could rapidly transmit information, and they were associated with the previous regime by the Republican movement that had been growing more publicly since 1907. When the revolution came, the ‘good services’ provided by the police did not matter, or how policemen tried to negotiate order more than just ‘enforce the law’, or the fact that policemen and the working-class that supported the Republic were socially akin. What was important was the struggle for a new political regime that would hopefully further working-class progress and protect citizens’ rights better; it was the understanding of the police as a core institution of the state (and thus of the

Monarchy) that dominated the perception of at least a part of the public.

In the period examined in this work, an ‘idea of police’ emerged in Lisbon society (thus among the police force itself) as a result of institutional reform, the greater allocation of resources to the police and the organisational arrangements that put these resources ‘on the ground’. This ‘idea’ affected the expectation of availability; more than ever before, people certainly expected a police officer or the police services to be available to intervene more in a burglary or brawl in a public house, but also in a conflict between neighbours, a fire or some medical emergency. In Chapter 6 it was argued that the act of ‘calling the police’ became more detectable from the 1870s onwards; moreover, internal police discourses discussed and tried to inculcate an idea of a police mandate in policemen that went far beyond the prevention of crime and dealing with public disorder. Thus, towards the end of the nineteenth century, a social transformation process took place in which Lisbon’s population became used to the availability of a state institution and state agents to mediate their own dealings with each other. Likewise, this broad intervention by the state in everyday life was promoted within the state machinery. Inherent to this change is the idea of ‘public service’, i.e.

288 that the state exists to provide citizens with services that are essential to their lives. In this respect, the embryonic notion of public service identified in Chapter 2 grew and solidified in the following decades and it gained more street-level routines, as seen particularly at the end of Chapter 6 . This transformation did not mean that other, even private, forms of mediation, conflict solving or simply searching for help did not coexist; in fact they did as - for example - the night-watchmen paid by neighbourhood associations which had always existed but probably became more common in the 1870s and 1890s, though very little research has yet been done on this matter. However, the general conclusion draw from this work is that in this period the state, via the police, became a central actor in the management of urban everyday life.

Unsurprisingly, the police returns analysed in the last chapter show that it was the working class that most felt the heavy hand of the police. But if police can rightly be conceived as an instrument of dissemination of a new urban order — as domestic missionaries - promoted by the emerging middle classes, the fines issued under the municipal bylaw code objectify this better than arrests or “crimes”. In Chapter 6 the analysis of the performance of authority was focused on these two main outcomes of police activity. The significant increase in bylaw fines demonstrates the growing interference of the police in everyday habits. The case of the ‘arrest’ is a blatant example of how the main routine activity of the police - the beat patrol - became gradually more bounded by norms and rules that made police work an increasingly complex activity which was all based in the police station house. As the years went by, arresting someone became a gesture that had greater consequences for the policeman and for the arrested person. For the policeman, arresting someone involved more bureaucratic paperwork, the burden of having to testify in court and in general more organisational and public scrutiny. And although further work is required on this topic,

289 it might be posited that being arrested brought greater social consequences due to the development of the police and the judiciary machine and the increased certainty of their actions, among other reasons. Thus, despite the fact that the fact that the available figures are not completely conclusive, it is possible to ascertain that policemen resorted progressively less to formal arrest and more to ‘warnings’ and negotiation with the public, thus in line with the prescriptions of the daily orders.

Overall, the transformation of the police was a significant outcome of the consolidation of liberalism in Portugal with the Constitutional Monarchy in the second half of the nineteenth century. Similarly, it was a blatant effect of the urbanisation process that the city of Lisbon witnessed especially from the 1880s onwards. In deep contrast with the rest of the country, but following changes seen elsewhere in Europe, urbanisation in Lisbon did not mean only a growing population and built environment but also the emergence of a ‘public sphere’ in which the police should intervene, but from where demands and criticisms also emerged and influenced the shaping of the police. In this context, when ‘Republican people’ persecuted policemen in October of

1910, they probably shared the opinion of Afonso Costa, one of the main Republican leaders, in parliament in 1908 when he described the Policia Civil as ‘the worst police force in the world’, and were recalling the clashes between the police and the public that multiplied after 1907.540 This must not, however, overshadow the numerous and significant changes in the police and policing practice shown in this work and particularly how these changes were relationally ‘negotiated’ with the population of the city.

540 Afonso Costa, Discursos (Lisboa Livraria Classica, 1908), p.62. 290 Bibliography

Main Government Bills

Criaqao dos Corpos de Policia Civil: Carta de Lei de 2 de Julho de 1867 in Diario de Lisboa, N°149, 08-07-1867.

Regulamento de 14 de Dezembro de 1867 para os corpos de policia civil de Lisboa e Porto, criados pela lei de 2 de Julho de 1867 in Diario de Lisboa, N°290, 21-12-1867.

Mapa das Esquadras e suas secedes para o servigo de policia de 25 de Julo de 1867 in Diario de Lisboa N°167, 29-07-1867.

Reforma dos Corpos de Policia Civil de 27 de Janeiro de 1876 in Diario do Govemo n°24, 01-02-1876.

Regulamento dos Corpos de Policia Civil de 21 de Dezembro de 1876 in Diario do Govemo N°295, 30-12-1876.

Reforma dos Serviqos Policiais de Lisboa de 28 de Agosto de 1893 in Diario do Govemo, N°194, 30-08-1893.

Regulamento Geral e Disciplinar do Corpo de Policia Civil de Lisboa de 12 de Abril de 1894 in Diario do Govemo N°84, 16-04-1894.

Reforma dos Servigos Policiais de Lisboa de 3 Abril de 1896 in Diario do Govemo N°77, 08-04-1896.

Reforma da Policia Civil de Lisboa de 20 de Janeiro de 1898 in Diario do Govemo N°18, 25-01-1898.

Regulamento Geral do Corpo de Policia Civil de Lisboa de 4 de Agosto de 1898 in Diario do Govemo N°173, 04-08-1898.

Regulamento de Policia Judiciaria e de Investigagao de 19-09-1902 in Diario do Govemo, N°214, 23-09-1902.

Archival Primary Sources

Arquivo Policia Civil de Lisboa TIAN/TT-APCL1

[Daily Orders] NT213 NP075 - 28-10-1872/30-04-1874. NT214 NP076 - 01-05-1874/20-04-1876. NT215 NP077 - 21-04-1876/03-05-1877. NT216 NP079 - 04-05-1877/20-10-1878. NT217 NP080 - 21-10-1878/18-05-1880. NT218 NP081 -20-05-1880/30-05-1883. NT219 NP082 - 31-05-1883/28-08-1885. NT220 NP083 - 29-08-1885/05-08-1886.

291 NT221 NP084 - 06-08-1886/08-12-1887. NT222 NP085 - 09-12-1887/24-04-1888. NT223 NP086 - 25-04-1888/21-08-1888. NT224 NP748 - 22-08-1888/31-12-1888. NT225 NP087 - 01-01-1889/10-02-1890. NT226 NP088 -11-02-1890/27-01-1891. NT227 NP089 - 28-01-1891/05-02-1892. NT228 NP090 - 06-02-1892/09-10-1892. NT229 NP091 -10-10-1892/03-11-1893. NT230 NP092 - 02-11-1892/21-11-1894. NT231 NP093 - 22-11-1894/11-06-1896. NT232 NP094 -12-06-1896/15-07-1897. NT233 NP095 -15-07-1897/14-09-1898. NT234 NP096 - 09-02-1900/14-08-1901. NT235 NP097 -15-08-1901/31-12-1902. NT236 NP098 - 01-01-1903/05-04-1904. NT237 NP099 - 06-04-1904/25-06-1905. NT238 NP100 - 26-06-1905/24-06-1906. NT239 NP101 -06-11-1907/31-12-1908. NT240 NP102 - 01-01-1909/31-12-1909. NT241 N P 692-01-01-1910/01-12-1911.

Arquivo Ministerio do Reino [IAN/TT-MR1

Lv.1686: [Correspondence from the Ministry of Interior to different authorities relating public safety issues, 1860-1865].

Lv. 1687: [Correspondence from the Ministry of Interior to different authorities relating public safety issues, 1865-1870].

Mg.2808, L°32, N°489: [Correspondence with Oporto police authorities with regard to a case with a School for poor children, 1882].

Mg.2833, L°36, N°521: [Correspondence with Guarda Municipal with regard to public order issues, 1886].

Mg.2837, L°37, N°344: [File on Guarda Municipal station in Campo de Ourique,1887].

Mg.2841, L°39 N°159: [File on the commission to study police reform, 1888].

Mg.2856, L°40, N°7: [File on the purchase of revolvers to the Policia Civil, 1890].

Mg.2862, Lv.40, N°803: [Correspondence with Lisbon’s Municipality with regard to the conflicts in the overseeing of bylaws, 1890].

Mg.2866, L°41, N°288: [File on Policia Civil stations, 1890-1891].

Mg.2866, L°41, N°351: [File on Policia Civil stations, 1891].

Mg.2873, L°42, N°850: [File on Policia Civil stations, 1892].

292 Mg.2845, L°38, N°930: [Correspondence with Guarda Municipal, 1888].

Mg.2845, L°38, N°931: [Correspondence between the Ministry of Interior and the Guarda Municipal, 1888].

Mg.2981, L°12, N°701-753: [Files pertaining to the management of the police, 1860- 1861].

Mg.3005, L°13, N°1234: [Files pertaining to the management of the police, 1862-1863].

Mg.3007, L°12, N°2042: [Correspondence with police authorities with regard to a Guarda Municipal station, 1862].

Mg.3015, L°14, N°333: [Files pertaining to the management of the police, 1863-1864].

Mg.3015, L°14, N°375: [Files pertaining to the management of the police, 1863-1864].

Mg.3022, L°14, N°737: [Files pertaining to the management of the police, 1863-1864].

Mg.3021, L°14, N°1039: [Petition from the inhabitants of Penha de Franga requesting a Guarda Municipal Station, 1863].

Mg.3023, L°14, N°1325: [File on Guarda Municipal Station at the Polytechnic School, 1863].

Mg.3023, L°14, N°1440: [File on Guarda Municipal Station in Campolide, 1864].

Mg.3025, L°14, N°1794: [File on Guarda Municipal station in St Joseph Hospital].

Mg.3027: [Files pertaining to the management of the police, 1864-1866].

Mg.3035, L°15, N°1761: [Correspondence and Plans of Police Reform 1864-1866].

Mg.3037, L°16, N°42: [Files pertaining to the management of the police, 1866-1867].

Mg.3049, L°17, N°567: [Files with the plans for police reform, 1863-1868].

Mg.3071, L°19, N°581: [Correspondence with a Tobacco Company with regard to the location of a Guarda Municipal Station, 1869].

Mg.3072, Lv.19, N°675: [Files pertaining to the management of the police, 1869].

Mg.3076, Lv°19, N°1680: [Correspondence with Lisbon police authorities because of a murder case, 1870].

Mg.4538-A: [Report on public prostitution, 1862].

Mg.4961, L°32, N°218: [Correspondence with the different police forces with respect to police’s manpower, 1882]. Mq.4966, L°31, N°195: [Correspondence with and reports from Guarda Municipal with regard to the tumults of March of 1881].

Mq.5003, L°19, N°1320: [Correspondence with Oporto police authorithies with respect to the use of straitjackects and amonia by the police, 1869]

Contabilidade, Liv.497: [Preventive Police Payments, 1859-1869].

Contabilidade, M 5.8 O: [Police Accounts, 1882-1883].

Contabilidade, Mq.3707: [Police Accounts, 1906-1907].

Contabilidade, Mq.4376: [Police Accounts, 1899-1900].

Contabilidade, Mg.4383: [Police Accounts, 1899-1900].

Contabilidade, Mq.4995: [Police Accounts, 1836-1913]

Arquivo Historico Militar

Cx.3394: Jose Antonio Morais Sarmento.

Arquivo Govemo Civil de Lisboa

NT879 NR47: [Policemen assigned to the Administrative Police Branch] NT856 NR 8 : [Correspondence between the Criminal Investigation Branch and the Civil Government of Lisbon - 1902].

Arquivo Historico Diplomatico

AHMNE-Cx.54/Mq.2: Conferencia Intemacional de Roma (1898) para a defesa social contra os anarchistas.

Printed Primary Sources

Actas das Sessdes da Junta Geral do Distrito de Lisboa (Lisbon: Typographia Universal, 1885-1887).

Almanack Burocratico Comecial da Empreza Literaria de Lisboa para 1887 (Lisbon: Empreza Literaria de Lisboa, 1887).

Almanack Burocratico Geral, Distrital e Concelhio para 1875 (Lisbon: Editora Carvalho, 1874).

Almanack Palhares para 1909: burocratico, comercial, ilustrado e literario (Lisbon: Palhares, 1909).

294 Almeida, Carlos de, O Policia Civil: Cangoneta Comica: Parddia ao antigo zelador municipal (Lisbon: Diogo Seromenho Editor, 1879).

Almeida, Fialho de, A Cidade do Vicio (Lisbon: Classica Editora, 9th Edition, 1959 [1882]).

Azevedo, Francisco Cardoso de, Duas Palavras ou alguns elementos para a historia das Guardas Municipals (Lisbon: Typographia da Guarda Municipal de Lisboa, 1898).

Azevedo, Francisco Pereira de, Historia da Prostituigao e Policia Sanitaria no Porto (Porto: Gomes da Fonseca, 1864).

Bluteau, Rafael & Silval, Antonio Morais, Diccionario da lingua portugueza composto pelo padre D. Rafael Bluteau (Lisbon: Officina de Simao Thaddeo Ferreira, 1789).

Brandao, Raul, Memorias (Lisbon: Relogio de Agua, 1998 [1919]).

Castro, Jose de, O Maior Crime do Regimen: o juizo d'instrucgao criminal (Lisbon: Typ. La Becarre, 1910).

Corpo de Policia Civil de Lisboa: Mappas Estatisticos (Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional, 1873-1875/ 1886-1893).

Costa, Afonso, Discursos proferidos nas sessoes de 13 e 19 de Maio de 1908 na Camara dos Deputados (Lisbon: Livraria Classica, 1908).

Cruz, Francisco Ignacio dos Santos, Da Prostituigao na Cidade de Lisboa (Lisbon: Typ. Lisbonense, 1841).

Codigo de Posturas da Camara Municipal de Lisboa (Lisbon: Typographia Jomal do Comercio, 1869).

Dias, Jose Lopes, O Coronel Malaquias de Lemos e a revolugao de 5 de Outubro (novos documentos) (Lisbon: Imperio, 1964).

Estatutos / Associagao Servigo Voluntario de Ambulancia em Incendios (Lisbon: Typ. Universal de Thomaz Quintino Antunes, 1881).

Estatutos da Associagao de Socorros Mutuos do Corpo de Policia Civil de Lisboa, (Lisbon: Casa Portuguesa, 1896).

Faria, Alfredo Cesar Macedo de, A Reforma da Policia (Ponta Delgada: Typ. Ruy Moraes, 1908).

Faria, Eduardo, Novo Diccionario da Lingua Portuguesa (Lisbon: Typographia Lisbonense, 1849).

Figueiredo, Candido, Novo Diccionario da Lingua Portuguesa (Lisbon: Portugal-Brasil Limitada, 3th Edition, 1911).

295 Herminio, Celso, O Camaval Desmascarado (Lisbon: Gomes de Carvalho, 1903).

Martins, Oliveira, The England of To-Day (London: George Allen, 1896).

Monteiro, Arlindo, Amor Safico e Socratico (Lisbon: Instituto de Medicina Legal de Lisboa, 1922).

Morgado, Alexandre, Guia do Forasteiro nas Festas Antonianas (Lisbon: Typ. Comercio, 1895).

Morgado, Alexandre, Regulamentos policiaes (Lisbon: Typ. Palhares, 4th Edition, 1898).

Morgado, Alexandre, Policia Antiga e Modema: Historia da Policia Civil e Militar em Portugal (Lisbon: Almanach Palhares, 1905).

Morgado, Alexandre, Codigo de posturas do municipio de Lisboa de 30 de Dezembro de 1886: devidamente ampliado e anotado (Lisbon: Empresa a Legislagao, 8 th Edition, 1912).

Noronha, Eduardo, A Esquina do Chiado (Oporto: Magalhaes e Moniz, 1913).

Noronha, Eduardo, Diario de um policia (Lisbon: Guimaraes Editores, 1919).

Orgamento Geral do Rendimento e Despesa do Estado (Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional, 1870-1910).

Pedrosa, A. L. Guimaraes, Curso de Ciencia da Administragao e direito administrativo (Coimbra: Imprensa da Universidade, 2nd Edition, 1909).

Pimentel, Alberto, Fotografias de Lisboa (Lisbon: Frenesi, 2005 [1874]).

Queiros, Ega de & Ortigao, Ramalho, As Farpas (Estoril: Principia, 2004 [1872]).

Ratazzi, Maria, Portugal de Relance (Lisbon: Antfgona, 2004 [1879]).

Regulamento do Servigo dos Incendios na cidade de Lisboa (Lisbon: Typographia Universal, 1882).

Regulamento policial das meretrizes e casas de toleradas da cidade de Lisboa em 30 de Julho de 1858 (Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional, 1865).

Regulamento policial das meretrizes e casas de toleradas da cidade de Lisboa em 1 de Dezembro de 1865 (Lisbon: Imprensa Nacional, 1865).

Regulamento policial dos mendigos na cidade de Lisboa (Lisbon: Govemo Civil de Lisboa, 1900).

Sampaio, Albino Forjaz Lisboa Tragica (aspectos da cidade) (Lisbon: Empresa Literaria Fluminense, 3rd Edition, 1917 [1910]).

296 Sampaio, Carlos Correa de, Manual da Policia Civil: Pratico e Portatil (Coimbra: Imprensa da Universidade, 1905).

Silva, Antonio Maria da, O meu depoimento (Lisbon: Grafica Portuguesa, 1974).

Silva, Antonio Morais da, Diccionario da Lingua Portuguesa (Lisbon: Impressao Regia, 4th Edition, 1831).

Silva, Antonio Morais da, Diccionario da Lingua Portuguesa (Lisbon: Typographia Joaquim Germano de Souza Neves, 7th Edition, 1877).

Silva, Antonio Morais da, Diccionario da Lingua Portguesa (Lisbon: Empresa Literaria Fluminense, 8 th Edition, 1890).

Sousa, Avelino de, Bairro Alto: Romance de costumes populares (Lisbon: Livraria Popular de Francisco Franco, 1944)

Veiga, Francisco, Adigdes a o Ministerio Publico na primeira instancia (Coimbra: Fran?a Amado, 1914).

Newspapers

Archivo Municipal de Lisboa (1860-1868) Branco e Negro: Semanario Ilustrado (1897) Diario de Notfcias (1906-1907) Diario Ilustrado (1893-1894) Diario Mercantil (1869) Galeria de Criminosos Celebres: Historia da Criminologia Contemporanea (1896-1908) IlustraQao Portuguesa (1907) Jomal do Comercio (1893) Mundo (O) (1907) Nacional (O) (1865) Parodia (A) (1900-1907) Revista Militar (1862) Seculo (O) (1890) Times (The) (1893)

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Articles and Chapters

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Almeida, Joana Estominho de, ‘Utensilios burocraticos da Secretaria de Estado dos Negocios do Reino (1834-1843)’, in Pedro Tavares Almeida & Rui Branco (Eds), Burocracia, Estado e Territorio, Portugal e Espanha (Seculos XIX -XX) (Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 2007), pp.37-52.

297 Almeida, Pedro Tavares, ‘A burocracia do Estado no Portugal Liberal (2a Metade do Seculo XIX)’ in Rui Branco & Pedro Tavares Almeida (Eds), Burocracia, Estado e Territorio. Portugal e Espanha (Seculos XIX-XX) (Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 2007), pp.53-79.

Alves, Daniel, Evolugao das freguesias da cidade de Lisboa ao longo do seculo XIX, http://www2 .fcsh.unl.pt/deps/historia/docs/lisboa.pdf

Axtman, Roland, ‘Police and the formation of the modem state: legal and ideological assumptions on state capacity in the Austrian lands of the Habsburg empire, 1500- 1800’, German History, 1994, 10(1), pp.39-60.

Barreiros, Jose Antonio, ‘As Institui 9oes Criminais em Portugal no Seculo XIX: subsidios para a sua historia’, Analise Social, 1982, vol. XVI(63), pp.587-612.

Barreiros, Jose Antonio, ‘Criminalizagao politica e defesa do Estado’, Analise Social, 1982, vol. XVIII (72-73-74), pp.813-828.

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298 Cerezales, Diego Palacios, ‘A country without gendarmerie. Policing and political integration in rural Portugal during the 19th century’, Unpublished Paper, 2010.

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Thesis

Alves, Daniel, ‘A Republica atras do balcao. Os lojistas de Lisboa na fase final da monarquia (1870-1910)’ (PhD Thesis, Lisbon: New University of Lisbon, 2010).

Cerezales, Diego Palacios, ‘Estado, Regimen y Orden Publico en el Portugal Contemporaneo (1834-2000)’ (PhD Thesis, Madrid: Universidad Complutense, 2008).

Costa, Vitor, ‘O Desporto e a Sociedade em Portugal: fins do seculo XIX - princfpios do Seculo XX’ (MA Thesis, Lisbon: ISCTE, 1999).

Lousada, Maria Alexandre, ‘Espa?os de Sociabilidade em Lisboa: Finais do seculo XVIII a 1834’ (PhD Thesis, Lisbon: University of Lisbon, 1995).

Sampaio, Maria, ‘Historia Critica do Genero Policial em Portugal (1870-1970): Transfusoes e Transferencias’ (PhD Thesis, Oporto: University of Porto, 2007).

Silva, Alvaro Ferreira da, ‘Crescimento Urbano, Regula^o e Oportunidades Empresariais: A construgao residencial em Lisboa, 1860-1930’ (PhD Thesis, Florence: EUI, 1997).

Vaz, Maria Joao, ‘A Criminalidade em Lisboa entre meados do seculo XIX e o inicio do seculo XX’ (PhD Thesis, Lisbon: ISCTE, 2006).

Vidal, Frederic, Les habitants d ’Alcantara au debut du XXe siecle: Identintes, proximites et distances sociales dans un quartier industrialise de Lisbonne (PhD Thesis, Lyon: Universite Lumiere - Lyon 2, 2003).

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